


HelloGoodbye

by LazyKitty



Series: Camp AU [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dates, Emotional Sex, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Long Distance Relationships, M/M, Romance, academic anxiety (ch 8 and 9), healthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 140,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyKitty/pseuds/LazyKitty
Summary: Yuuri was never able to explain why he had followed the silver haired boy out to the meadow behind Lilia’s ballet studio all of those years ago. And now, over a decade of friendship later, he couldn’t imagine a life where he hadn’t. They each face their own struggles and high notes in their careers, all the while navigating their deepening connection and what it means to share a dream._____________FYI - this is part of a larger AU where Victor and Yuuri meet as children. I would recommend reading the earlier fics in this series before starting this one (at least part one, Wildflower). This multi chapter installment to this series begins a bit before Yuuri starts college - the bulk of it covers a 5 year time period leading into Season 1.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!!! If you are a returning reader to this Childhood AU, welcome back (I love you all!!!!) If you are new to the AU, WELCOME! I suggest you start by reading a few of the earlier one-shots that take place during their kiddo days (at least read Wildflower for some context/cuteness). If you don't want to, that's also fine. As stated in the fic summary, this installment is picking up later in the AU timeline, a bit before Yuuri moves to Detroit.

**_December 27th, 2009_**

“…Yuuri? Did you hear what I just said?”

Yuuri brought his phone back to his ear. “I - I don’t understand.”

His coach laughed. “Is it really that hard to believe that the JSF chose you for the spot? Honestly Yuuri, you’re the junior champion in Japan - you got invited to participate in the Senior Championships and put out a respectable performance last week. Yet here you are, again, acting like you’re a nobody in the skating world.” 

Yuuri could hear his coach’s eyes rolling over the phone. He’d be smiling, Yuuri knew, as he always did when trying to convince Yuuri of such things. Like last week, minutes before his free program in Sapporo for nationals. Yuuri had been nervous, feeling out of place as the only junior invited to the senior level competition. His coach had grabbed him firmly by the elbow and had hissed, _‘Do you know how great you are?’_

Yuuri had been so baffled by the question that he choked on his water, dribbling it horribly down his front. His coach had rolled his eyes and smiled _‘What am I going to do with you?’_ he had asked.

Yuuri had been so distracted by the exchange that he managed to block out the noise of the crowd and smash down his nerves. He came in fifth, five whole points above Takeshi.

“I’m booking your flight to Rotterdam. Probably the last weekend in February, so we can get in some practice. I know you like to have some time alone to feel out the rink. Assuming you want to go.”

“I- ah - yes, yes I want to go,” Yuuri managed to stammer. 

He was met with a deep hum of approval. “Good. We’re taking this weekend off, get some rest.”

“Yes, sensei,” Yuuri responded before hanging up. 

Yuuri let the phone slip through his fingers and into the bag between his legs. It landed inside of his skate with a dull thud. He tucked his head towards his knees, trying to sort out how he was feeling. What he was feeling. Yuuri learned long ago that many emotions could cause the physical reactions coursing through his body now: pounding heart, unsettled stomach, spinning head. 

Pride. Anxiety. Excitement. Nerves. Happiness. Disbelief. 

Yuuri thought he had finally come down from the high from competing at the Japan Figure Skating Championships, and the preceding high of winning the title of Junior Champion the month before. And now he was apparently seeded in Japan’s single slot for the Junior World Championships. 

It was all laughable really. Like he was riding a wave of good luck, all the way to the peak - 

No, he told himself, shaking his head and clenching his fists atop his knees. He flexed his toes, his feet sighing in relief, covered in a mess of blue, yellow, red, and brown splotches and scrapes. No, this was not luck - this was his hard work paying off. Yuuri wanted to win. How else would he ever meet Victor on the ice? And not just as a fan or as a friend messing around for fun, but as a true, honest to goodness competitor. It’s a dream they both shared, he knew.

He wound the cord around the camera Yuuko used to record his practice session and slipped it into his bag, zipping it tightly closed after retrieving his phone. The urge to re-lace his skates was making his fingers itch, but Yuuri knew what he really needed to win, was some rest.

Yuuri pushed the door open to the lobby of Ice Castle. It was darker and cooler than when he first slipped into the locker room. Yuuko must almost be done settling things down for the night. The Madonna of Ice Castle herself had retired after last season following a torn muscle in her knee. It hadn’t been exactly how she had been hoping her season would go, but she knew that there was no coming back. Her parents wanted her to go to college, and ‘Was she really good enough to skate professionally at the next level?’ they had asked. Yuuko finally conceded to their wishes, and took a full time job managing the local rink. 

“Yuuri, there you are!” Yuuko gasped. She closed the distance between them urgently with a few long strides, her hand outstretched to him with her phone. “Did you see this?”

Yuuri accepted it (slightly annoyed that he wasn’t first able to share his big news) and scrolled through the article she had pulled up. The font was small and hard to read, but Yuuri got the gist of it from the accompanying pictures and bold headline: 

**Defending Gold Medalist Withdraws from Russian National Championships.**

Yuuri frantically swiped his fingers over the screen, zooming in on the full article below.

_Defending champion, Victor Nikiforov (age 21), announced his withdrawal from the Russian Figure Skating Championships this afternoon. His coach, Yakov Feltsman, revealed that Nikiforov sustained an injury during warm-ups earlier this morning: “While the injury is not career threatening, we have decided to let Victor rest and heal so he can be in perfect health for the Olympic season. It was a difficult decision for him, but he has my support as well as the support of his teammates. He will be watching them skate today from the stands.”_

_The Olympics will be held in two months time, in Vancouver, Canada. This will be the next time we will expect to see Nikiforov skating on the competitive stage, as he had previously declined the invitation to the European Championships, held in late January, to prepare for the event. He recently won the gold medal at the Grand Prix Final in Boston, USA. While it is not unusual for Olympians to make such decisions, we cannot help but wonder if Nikiforov’s long and fruitful career has already reached its peak._

Yuuri handed the phone back to Yuuko with a sigh and a new nervous knot in his stomach. “So he didn’t mention this to you at all?” she asked.

Yuuri shook his head. “No.” 

He checked the time as Yuuko finished locking the doors to Ice Castle. The short programs would be long over by now, and there was a chance that Victor would be awake and able to answer a Skype call. But would Victor even want to talk? Yuuri knew he wouldn’t…but this was Victor and Victor was not Yuuri.

He pulled his scarf higher up his face as they crossed the small parking lot. He opened the car door for Yuuko, insisting that he wanted to walk back to Yu-topia to clear his head. “It’s cold, Yuuri,” she protested.

Yuuri politely declined, more firmly this time, and watched her drive away. He didn’t tell her about being invited to Words. She would kill him if she found out through other means, he smiled. The roster shouldn’t officially be announced until next week, but there always seemed to be someone on staff with ISU who was willing to leak it early. Perhaps for pay, perhaps to build speculation and excitement. It didn’t matter why, really. What mattered was that his name, Yuuri Katsuki, would be on that list. 

Yuuri stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets as he approached the last stoplight before the onsen, playing a game of ‘I should Skype him…I shouldn’t Skype him…’ all the way. 

It turned out that the activity ended up being a waste of time. He had two missed calls from Victor when he opened the app on his computer, all from within the last hour. Yuuri changed quickly out of his sweats and hit the call button. His shower could wait a bit longer.

“Yuuri!” Victor answered. 

“Hey,” he greeted.

There was a faint rustling on Victor’s end, and Makkachin’s fluffy tail came into view. “Oh, Makka! Okay settle down,” Victor laughed as his poodle tried to gain purchase on his lap. 

Yuuri laughed and bent down to pick up up his own companion from where he was whining on the floor. Vicchan yipped in approval, licking Yuuri’s face twice before settling down on his lap, much more easily than Makkachin (who refused to recognize that she was not a lapdog). This drew Makkachin’s attention to the general direction of Victor’s computer, and she whined in confusion. 

Victor chuckled lightly. “I think she’s looking for Vicchan.”

“Hi Makka,” Yuuri said, lifting one of Vicchan’s paws to wave into the camera.

Makkachin’s nose filled the screen. “Makka!”

Bark. Rustle. Victor finally came back into view. “Sorry, she gets excited when I’m at home.”

Yuuri contained a flinch - he had forgotten that the Russian Championships were being hosted in St. Petersburg, Victor’s home town. He wasn’t sure if this fact made his decision to withdraw easier or harder. At least, Yuuri thought, he wasn’t alone.

His expression did not go unnoticed because Victor immediately went on the defensive. “Really Yuuri, it’s not that bad,” Victor said, waving his hand at the camera. “We do these things all of the time. The Olympics are a big deal.”

Yuuri sighed, torn between relief and frustration. While he was glad Victor was in good spirits, missing a National Championship should not be spoken of so dismissively. Or at least Yuuri knew that he himself could never speak of it in such a manner. 

“But let’s talk about you!” Victor pressed, changing the subject. “I saw the official ISU roster for Worlds this year. The Junior list was particularly interesting.”

Yuuri blushed and buried his fingertips more tightly into Vicchan’s fur. “How…how do you know already? I only just gave my coach an answer an hour ago.”

Victor shrugged and smirked. “Were you considering saying no?”

“No,” Yuuri admitted. “But - don’t change the topic so quickly!” he continued, feeling slightly guilty at the prospect of celebrating his own personal victory while Victor was injured. “It’s -“

“Yuuri, don’t you dare say it’s not that big of a deal. This is a huge deal!” said Victor. 

Yuuri buried his face in Vicchan’s plush coat. “Hey, you’re going to be brilliant,” Victor sighed. “I saw your programs from Sapporo last week.”

And suddenly Yuuri was writing furiously, trying to keep up with the detailed notes that Victor was giving him on his programs. 

“Yuuri?” 

“Hmm?” Yuuri shook his head.

“Are you tired? We can continue later,” Victor said. “You just stopped writing and got a glazed look on your face…”

Yuuri laughed. “No, we can keep going,” he said. 

Because Victor was _good_. It was that realization that had stilled Yuuri’s hand. Victor was really good at this. His notes made sense in a way that no one else’s ever had. Maybe that was because Yuuri was so familiar with Victor’s skating that he just knew what Victor was trying to say. Victor did not use technical terms - his notes were often quite vague honestly. But…they were perfect at describing exactly what needed improvements in his programs.

He wondered if Victor had ever considered coaching someone. Yuuri opened his mouth to ask, then closed it. He felt a blush creep across his nose. “I - I’m ready. Just needed to stretch my fingers.”

Victor smiled. Makkachin and Vicchan yawned.

xXx

Yuuri came in sixth at the Junior World Championships. And Yuuri’s career reached a turning point. At the banquet, his coach introduced him to a man with a very angular face named Celestino Cialdini. The man made an offer to take Yuuri on as a student, saying he recognized something new in his skating. He said he knew he could take Yuuri further in his career as a figure skater, if it was in fact something that Yuuri wanted. 

It was.

Over the next few months, contracts were signed an arrangements were made for Celestino to fly in once per month over the off season, twice per month during the active season, to train with him. Minako and Yuuko agreed to fill in the training gaps and film sessions for Celestino to watch later. Celestino had also planted the bug in Yuuri’s ear to attend school in Detroit, so that they could train together properly.

Victor’s career had also reached a turning point during those same few months. Though it was not in the same direction as Yuuri’s. Yuuri’s career was finally taking off, given the wings it so desperately craved…Victor’s started to whither in the heat of his competitors. Victor had set the standard for so long with his passionate programs and graceful jump combinations. But, in his relatively brief absence from competitive skating (a mere two months), attention was drawn to the skaters with exceptional technical skills, which they were incredibly eager to show off now that they were not expected to live up to the emotional appeal of Victor Nikiforov. 

Christophe Giacometti, Victor’s friend and sort-of-rival (but mostly friend) landed the first ever quadruple lutz during the European Championships and repeated the feat in the Olympics for team Switzerland. Georgi Popovich simply bloomed at the Russian Championships (and again at the Olympics for team Russia), finally out from under Victor’s shadow. He unveiled an incredibly difficult three jump combination. A Ukranian skater became the first to successfully execute a program containing three quads. 

Victor scraped by at the Olympics, his programs as gorgeous and emotional as ever, but with the jumps downgraded due to his injury, he was not able to put up the same scores as usual, let alone touch the scores put up by his peers. 

Victor came home from the 2010 World Championships without a medal for the first time in seven years.

**_November 26th, 2010 - Japan Junior Championships_**

The bell toned signaling the end of the warm up session. Yuuri glided across the ice, the same ice on which Victor had clenched his ticket to the GPF a few days earlier at the NHK Trophy. He accepted his skate guards from Celestino and drank deeply from his water bottle as the other skaters slowly trickled in. They were so small, he realized. He was seventeen, about to turn eighteen, making him the oldest in the competition. Maybe he should have listened to Celestino and made this season his senior debut…Takeshi had moved up years ago, but it never seemed like the right time for Yuuri. 

Celestino grabbed his shoulder. “Let’s go find somewhere to warm up. You won’t be on for a while.”

Yuuri nodded and chanced a glance to the section where his family (his entire family) was sitting, their banners of support folded onto an empty seat next to Minako. His heart squeezed. It was the first time his family was coming to see him skate at an event like this. Minako had offered to treat, arguing that it was to celebrate Yuuri’s last season training in Japan. 

He waved at them. His mother noticed immediately and tugged at Mari’s sleeve to get her to wave back. Mari rolled her eyes but waved anyway. Yuuri laughed. Mari supported him in her own way, he knew. Taking out the trash for him when he had to stay late at the rink. Bringing him the relaxing lavender salts he liked after a hard week of training. Sneaking out into the onsen kitchens with him at three in the morning to make celebratory katsudon after his big wins. Subtly trashing aspects of American culture as a means to convince him to stay in Hasetsu. 

He loved her for it.

Yuuri pressed his palms flat against the wall in the dimly lit hallway and started to wake up his feet again, working up their agility for his free skate step sequences. Celestino joined him a while later to help him stretch out his legs and back. “Sure you don’t want to try that quad toe loop today, Yuuri? You’ve been doing it beautifully in practice.”

Yuuri shook his head, blushing. “I can win without quads,” he retorted.

“Hmmm…” Celestino hummed in response. 

Yuuri smiled as he took his starting position on the ice. ‘Skate well, Yuuri! I’ll be watching!’ Victor had texted him. He pushed his arms up over his head, waiting for his music to start. It was comforting to know that somewhere, Victor was watching. Likely curled up on his bed with Makkachin laying at his feet. Today, he would show Victor the skating he liked best.

xXx

Yuuri swooped down to pick up a small plush poodle from the ice and a few flowers that happened to be nearby. Celestino was still beaming at him when he approached the wall. There was no way for Yuuri to tell if his score would be a winning one, but his performance had felt good. He opened his mouth to say as much to his coach when something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. 

A slender figure was standing a few yards behind Celestino, dressed in a three piece suit and holding a circle of pink and purple flowers. Yuuri barely managed to put his guards fully in place before his was sprinting towards the man, absently pushing aside the warm-up jacket Celestino was offering him. His heart was pounding in his chest and a slight pressure was building behind his eyes.

“Victor!” he cried. 

Victor opened his arms as Yuuri approached, smile wide and bright. “My Yuuri!” he gasped as Yuuri squeezed him tightly.

Yuuri buried his face into Victor’s chest for a few long seconds, his long silver locks tickling Yuuri’s nose. “Wh-what are you doing here?” Yuuri laughed, stepping slightly away from Victor’s warmth.

Victor hummed as he placed the delicate crown atop Yuuri’s head. “My flight was cancelled after the NHK Trophy.”

“Your - your flight was cancelled?” Yuuri gaped.

“Mmm…cancelled as in I called the airline and transferred it to tomorrow.” Victor delicately brushed a few stray hairs behind Yuuri’s ears. A shiver rolled up his spine.

“Wh-why?” Yuuri stuttered in disbelief. 

“Yuuri! We need to be at the kiss and cry,” Celestino called. A frantic looking official was waving them over to where the cameras were situated. 

Yuuri looked back and forth between Victor and his coach, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. “I’ll still be here when you’re done,” Victor smiled, giving him a small push towards Celestino. 

Yuuri gave him one last squeeze. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Yuuri threw a glance over his shoulder as Celestino guided him to the kiss and cry. “Does he do this often?” Celestino asked once they were seated on the long bench.

“Hm?”

“Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri looked at his coach, taken slightly aback. “Umm…n-no. This is the first time he’s actually been to one of my events. Usually it doesn't really work out. Why?”

“Just wondering how often I’m going to have to fight for your attention after your competitions,” Celestino laughed, offering Yuuri his warm-up jacket again.

Yuuri accepted it this time, risking a glance back to where he had left Victor. He was still there. “I’m sure he does this with others. He and Chris, that skater from Switzerland, seem close.”

“He always came off as a bit…selfish and self-centered,” Celestino shrugged. 

Yuuri prickled at the comment. “We’ve known each other for ten years. We’ve always been interested in each other’s career,” he said, adjusting the crown on his head. 

Celestino raised his eyebrows. “Nikiforov is a good skater. Take advantage of this, Yuuri. But…he’ll be your competitor soon enough. Be careful.”

Yuuri frowned. _It’s not like that with Victor_ , he wanted to say. But the announcement of the scores gave him pause. Yuuri’s name remained in the first slot. The arena erupted in cheers and Celestino pulled him tightly to his chest, offering his congratulations. Yuuri’s eyes strayed to Victor, who was holding his phone up in their direction. Yuuri offered a smile and cupped his hands together in a silly heart. He saw Victor’s shoulders move in laughter. 

He and Celestino spent the next hour answering questions in the kiss and cry as the podium was erected in the center of the rink. They offered their congratulations on his second consecutive title and asked questions about his plans for the next season. He confirmed the rumors that he was moving his home rink to Detroit and, yes, he would still skate for Japan on the international stage. Yes, he would be making his senior debut next year. No, he would not be participating in international events (other than the Japan national competition) for his first year, choosing to focus on settling in to life as a college student in America. Yes, he would absolutely participate in the Senior championships and the Junior Worlds again, if honored by the JSF with these opportunities again this season.

The reporters finally let him go and an official from the JSF ushered him over to where the silver and bronze medalists were waiting near the edge of the rink. He bowed generously as the official slipped the medal over his crown. A bouquet of roses was stuffed into the hand not occupied by the poodle plushie.

He felt hands grab at each of his elbows and he pulled both Minami and Ryu onto the platform with him for the final pictures. The silver medalist and the younger of the two, Minami, yanked persistently on Yuuri’s sleeve. “I’m going to skate just like you someday!” he declared once their faces were level. 

Yuuri’s face broke into a huge smile. “Just do the skating you like best. That’s the only shortcut to a gold medal that I know of,” he said, quoting something Victor had told him a few years ago.

Minami’s eyes wiggled as he processed the interaction. Yuuri glided smoothly over to the exit and slid his skate guards on again. Victor was waiting for him near the tunnel to the locker rooms.

“Nikiforov, how are you?” Celestino asked as they approached. “It seems like it’s been a hard season so far for you.”

Yuuri clenched his jaw, looking sideways at his coach. Victor’s mouth turned into an exaggerated heart shape. “Fine, fine!” he chirped. “Mind if I steal Yuuri for a bit?”

Celestino sighed and opened his mouth as if to protest, but Yuuri was already taking steps towards Victor. And Celestino wasn’t about to upset his fragile gold-medalist. He nodded instead, then turned towards the stands to collect his bags. “Banquet is tomorrow, Yuuri. Minako has your exhibition outfit in her room.”

Yuuri nodded. Celestino tipped his head one final time to Victor and then he was gone.

Victor’s shoulders slouched slightly after Celestino walked away, and his disturbingly fake smile that Yuuri hated so much finally melted off of his face. “Victor,” he started, coming to stand directly in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

Victor looked up and past him, over at the ice. “Nothing.”

“Victor,” Yuuri demanded. He finally got Victor’s eyes to meet his, and was surprised to find himself feeling slightly angry at his friend. “Don’t…brush me off.”

Victor sighed and buried his face in his hands. “I can never hide from you can I, Yuuri? We see each other for a few hours a year, yet you always know. Better than anyone else.”

Yuuri waited, knowing that there was more Victor had to say but not wanting to force it out of him. That would earn him a fake smile, his first one, and that was not something Yuuri wanted directed towards him. Ever. 

“Let’s go get some dinner? You have some celebrating to do,” Victor suggested, running his fingers lightly over Yuuri’s shining gold medal. 

Yuuri nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder. “That sounds good.”

Yuuri showered and dropped his bags off at his hotel room. He briefly stopped in to say hello to Minako and his family before heading out to meet Victor at a restaurant down the street. Victor was standing outside, flicking his finger across his phone screen. Yuuri noticed that he had shed most of the layers of his suit, for which Yuuri was glad (he would have felt severely underdressed otherwise). 

“Shall we?” he asked as he tugged Victor’s arm towards the door. 

Victor smiled and pulled Yuuri into a tight hug before he allowed himself to be lead through the doors. Yuuri spoke with the hostess and soon they were lead to a quiet booth towards the back wall. “Do you want me to order for you?” Yuuri asked, as Victor’s eyes glazed over the menu. 

Victor nodded, looking relieved as he gently closed it. Their server came over shortly and Yuuri ordered a few of the sampler dishes, not quite knowing what Victor would like. They had never really done anything like this before, Yuuri realized. He blushed lightly, wishing he would have spent a few minutes asking Victor what kinds of foods he liked.

“Yuuri?” 

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring,” Victor laughed.

“Just happy you are here, that’s all,” he managed, running a hand nervously along the back of his neck.

Victor smiled at him. “The timing was too good, Yuuri. How could I have possibly flown back to Russia after the NHK cup knowing you’d be skating here the next day? You might want to avoid Yakov for a while though.”

Yuuri squeaked. “Oh yeah, he’s probably expecting to pick me up from the airport in a few hours,” Victor cringed. “I should message him…”

Yuuri laughed as Victor furiously typed out an exchange with his coach, accentuated with a few verbal hisses in Russian. Their food arrived as he was finishing up. “Yuuri! This all looks…Vkusno!” 

They each loaded their plates with an assortment of food, Yuuri sticking to lighter options to settle his stomach after his emotional day.

“Quad fever,” Victor sighed suddenly, picking some more noodles onto his plate.

“Sorry, what?”

“Quad fever - it’s what’s bothering me,” Victor said. “The Russian Skating Federation wants me to catch it. They say I need to if I want to keep being their shining star.”

“So you don’t want to then?” Yuuri asked carefully, nudging a piece of broccoli across his plate. 

Victor took a long sip from his steaming mug of green tea. “It’s not that, necessarily,” he started. “I would love to start bringing some of those elements to my programs. It’s just…I’m having troubles finding places to naturally flow into them. I’m so used to my pacing, the speed that I need in each element to work into my triples and standard combos.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement, remembering the tricky transition when he started working triples into his routines. “People are saying it’s because of my injury last season, which isn’t entirely untrue, I’m still on the mend so to say. Others…others are saying it’s because I’m getting old.”

“Victor, you’re not even twenty-two yet.”

“I know,” he said softly, his gaze drifting down to where his hands were grasping his mug. “I’ve never had the incredible stamina that you've been gifted with, and what I do have I’ve always chosen to put towards my dance sequences, the subtle…feelings throughout my routines. Until now, that has always been good enough - the expressive art of skating was enough. But now…it’s not - I’m not - enough anymore.”

Yuuri’s hand flew across the table and closed tightly around Victor’s wrist. “Victor - “

“What should I do, Yuuri? Everyone has always looked to me to set the bar of men’s figure skating programs.” Victor asked, curling his fingers into Yuuri’s, almost desperately. 

“So set a new one,” Yuuri said. “I - everyone loves your skating, Victor. There really isn’t anyone quite like you on the ice. If you want to add more technical elements, then do it. But please,” Yuuri emphasized this with a tight squeeze of his hand, “please be true to yourself.”

Victor smiled, and Yuuri could see a faint blush working across the bridge of his nose. He followed Victor’s gaze to where their hands were connected. Where Yuuri’s thumb was absently rubbing circles against the bone of Victor’s wrist. He instantly pulled it back. “Aha, I mean…you can’t really do anything except be yourself, right?”

Victor’s laughter rang lightly in the space between them. “You could be the first to land a quad flip or something,” Yuuri laughed, wringing his hands lightly in his lap. They were so desperately trying to reach out for Victor’s hands, for any part of Victor really (their current target were his knees, which were brushing lightly against his own under the table).

Victor tipped his head in question. “Quad flip?”

“Well I mean, the flip has always been your signature jump right? So it makes sense…?” Yuuri wanted to plant his forehead into the table. Could he sound any more like a fanboy at this point? It’s your signature move, right?

“A quad flip,” Victor said. “Okay. I’ll land a quad flip next season. For you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s cheeks blazed. “I promise,” Victor affirmed.

Yuuri helped Victor sort out the bill, embarrassed that Victor wouldn’t let him pay for his part. Victor wouldn’t hear anything of it and instead asked him to tell the hostess that they were celebrating his gold medal victory. “He’s your national junior skating champion!” he proclaimed to the whole restaurant. 

Yuuri dragged him forcefully from the establishment. Victor was laughing as they emerged, and Yuuri couldn’t help but join him. “That was fun,” Victor said as they started the short walk back to Yuuri’s hotel. 

“Mmmm,” Yuuri agreed.

“It’s a shame you aren’t doing any international events next year. It would be nice to have things like this to look forward to.”

Yuuri almost stopped mid-stride. “But, there’s the banquets and stuff. In your photos, you always look like you are having a lot of fun.”

Victor nodded. “Yeah, they are a lot of fun. I…I’ve been kind of looking forward to you being at them, though.”

Yuuri smiled. “Someday,” he sighed, chancing a glance at Victor.

He was staring back at him with his crystal eyes. “Someday soon, Yuuri. You promised.”

Yuuri nodded. “I did.”

They arrived at the hotel lobby entrance. “So, I’ll see you this summer I guess?” he asked, running his hand through his hair. 

Victor nodded. “I’m still amazed Yakov asked me to help teach the beginners. It’s like he’s testing me…”

Yuuri laughed. “Mmmm…those kids are not going to know any technical terms for anything they do. Just ‘the spin that looks like a Y’ or ‘the frosted doughnut one’.”

“I’m a little surprised Lilia thought of me to do the ballet classes,” Yuuri continued.

“I’m not,” Victor stated. 

Yuuri coughed in surprise. Victor always said things like that to him. “I’ll see you…then?” he finished.

Victor smiled and pulled him for a final hug. “You did really well today, Yuuri. You deserved that medal.”

Yuuri smiled and pulled his arms more tightly around Victor. “Have a safe flight,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope the time jumping wasn't too confusing - if it was hard to follow, please let me know and I can add a more detailed timeline to the fic. See you next time! I'm hoping to get updates out every two weeks probably so I can have enough time to keep writing a few chapters ahead of posting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback to the first chapter and the previous fics in this series! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me…can you hear my heart beat? I was so nervous to come back to fanfic writing after so many years not doing it, but I’m so happy to be back and writing for such a great fandom :)

**_July 2011_**

“Good morning!”

Yuuri blinked and slowly turned his head towards the voice. “Long flight?” Victor asked, an amused tone to his voice.

Victor was leaning against the pale brick wall, hidden in the morning shadows mere feet from where Yuuri was frozen with his hand outstretched for the studio door. He pulled it back to rub against the back of his neck. “Ahha, yeah. The jet lag is just enough to be…disorienting,” he offered.

“I figured as much,” Victor said, bending down to the black bag next to him. “Coffee? Or tea?” he asked, offering out two thermoses in turn.

Victor might as well have wings and a halo, Yuuri decided. Or perhaps he too liked to sleep in until the last minute following a day and night of travel and therefore foresaw the state Yuuri would be in for his first day. He really, _really_ , should have flown in a day earlier. “Tea, thanks,” he said, reaching for the silver thermos.

Yuuri hummed in satisfaction as the warm liquid slipped down his throat. It was substantially better than the teabags stocked in his hotel room. A light breeze blew across his face, and Yuuri felt his core body functions finally purr to life. 

Victor took a few long sips from the gold thermos. “I actually have to head over to the rink,” he said after a moment. “I wanted to come say good morning and see if you needed anything before your first day?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I think I’ll be okay. I talked with Minako and Lilia about things last week. Lilia has some notes on translating some of the terms to Russian if the students need it, and Minako is teaching the second half of the week with the intermediates if I really run into trouble.”

Victor smiled. “Sounds like you’re set,” he said, hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. He looked back at Yuuri as he gently pulled his hair out from under the straps, his bottom lip bitten between his teeth. “I’m walking the beginner skaters over to the studio around lunch for your afternoon session. So we can trade kids.”

Yuuri nodded. “Thanks.”

“They have someone else staffing the cafeteria in the studio, so we can go grab some lunch somewhere else, if you want?” Victor asked. 

“Yeah, that’d be great!” Yuuri agreed, thinking about the sad selection of granola bars he managed to swipe from the hotel lobby on his way out.

Victor nodded and waved before turning to head off in the direction of the rink. Yuuri would have to remember to ask him for directions and rink hours. He had paid for an extra bag so he could bring his skates, hoping to snag some time to do some training while away. 

Yuuri finally turned to enter the studio and noticed a small blonde child halfway up the walk, his head turned away from Yuuri. “That’s Victor Nikiforov. He’s teaching some of the skating lessons. Do you know him?” Yuuri asked nervously, trying to break the ice.

A pair of green eyes snapped to meet his. “Of course I know who he is,” he responded in thickly accented English before walking the rest of the way to the studio doors, posture ramrod straight. “Move! You’re in my way.”

Yuuri stumbled back and the door open for the feisty blonde. Yes, he would definitely need some rink time if too many of his students were like this. Thankfully, the boy looked a bit too old to be in the beginner class.

Yuuri’s morning class was full of angels, some more coordinated than others, but angels nonetheless. A few of them even recognized _him_ from the Junior Worlds (they quickly became his favorites, even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to have favorites) and had said that he made skating look _fun_. These comments did incredible things to Yuuri’s confidence and calmed his jitters almost to the point of nonexistence. 

Almost. He still managed to blush furiously whenever he had to pronounce the Russian terms which always earned him a few giggles and corrections. But they were kind about it, and Yuuri decided that he liked his morning group. He had even gotten them all to call him sensei, something he never thought he would hear attached to his name.

His popularity with his students only increased when Victor approached them in the cafeteria to ask Yuuri if he was ready to go grab some lunch. Yuuri was thankful to see that the students he would be meeting in the afternoon also seemed to have looks of awe on their faces at the exchange, which calmed Yuuri’s nerves about officially meeting them later.

Yuuri followed Victor to his car. “We could walk there, but since we only have an hour or so…we’d be rushed unless we drove,” Victor clarified after Yuuri had asked if car transport was necessary in the city.

The car ride was fairly short - only five minutes or so - but certainly faster than walking, as Victor said. Yuuri smiled as a familiar looking building came into view. “Do you remember it?” Victor asked, the car locking behind them with a few faint beeps. 

Yuuri nodded and Victor pulled out his phone as they approached the glass doors. “Commemorative photo?” he winked. 

“Sure,” Yuuri laughed. Victor casually draped his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and pushed their heads together, making sure to get the restaurant sign in the background.

The cameral app ‘clicked’ and Victor spent a few seconds captioning the image before leading Yuuri through the tall glass doors. They rode the elevator to the third floor this time instead of the rooftop terrace. They were escorted to a small table by the front windows and Yuuri heard Victor ask the waiter for water and tea (two phrases Yuuri made sure he knew before his trip) as he removed his jacket and sat down. 

Victor pointed at something on the front of the menu laying in front of Yuuri. “This was your favorite last time we were here.”

Yuuri laughed lightly. “Okay, let’s see if my tastes have changed, I guess.” They likely hadn’t, he knew. 

Victor ordered for both of them when the waiter reappeared. Yuuri had to stop himself from leaning his cheek into his hand and sighing. Victor’s English was good, but hearing him speak in his native Russian…there was just something about hearing people speak in their native language that was so charming. Victor made a slight gesture to Yuuri while speaking something to their waiter. 

“Welcome, I hope you like staying here,” the waiter said, smiling warmly at Yuuri.

Yuuri returned the smile. “Spasiba!” he said with a slight bow. 

He did not miss the way Victor’s eyes shimmered in delight. “You remembered!” 

Yuuri nodded. “That’s about all I remember of what you tried to teach me.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to resume our lessons then. I can teach you more…interesting words now,” Victor winked.

Their food arrived and they fell into casual conversation about their morning sessions, Yuuri’s flight over - which mostly involved Victor cringing over Yuuri’s economy class tickets and swearing he would take it up with Lilia…and Yuuri pleading that it was completely unnecessary and economy class was quite fine. 

Victor settled the bill, which Yuuri only caved to after a firm promise that he would be allowed to pick up the next one. “Perhaps lunch tomorrow?” Victor suggested. Yuuri was quick to agree. 

They had never really had the chance to spend time like this together, well not recently anyway. Yuuri found that he really enjoyed it. Skyping Victor was always something he looked forward to a few times a week. Yuuri’s skating schedule and social anxieties didn’t allow him much opportunity to make lasting friendships, but those he did have - Victor, Yuuko, Takeshi, Minako - he treasured above everything else. 

He had always felt like something had been missing between Victor and himself, and maybe this was it - the ability to be physically present in each other’s lives for more than a few hurried hours at ISU events. There were so many things you couldn’t learn about a person unless you were part of their daily life, until you did things like watch them sip water or switch gears (Victor was surprisingly good at driving stick). 

Yuuri found himself smiling fondly at Victor, who was staring in concentration at the road in front of them. This boy - man - had been such an important, steady influence in his life. He understood Yuuri in ways that no one else did, or at least that’s what Yuuri felt. He only hoped that someday, he could return the favor. He hoped that Victor knew, especially after their last meeting, that Yuuri would always be there for him. Yuuri felt an unfamiliar swelling in his chest and he felt his fingers twitch towards where Victor’s were resting on the gear shift. 

“Oh, Victor?”

“Hmm?”

“How late is the rink open? For skating,” Yuuri asked.

“As late as you want it to be, Yuuri,” Victor smiled.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow and followed the movement of Victor’s fingertips as they flicked across the keys in the ignition. “All of Yakov’s senior skaters have keys to the rink. We can skate as we please.”

“So I could go and skate after the lessons are over?”

Victor nodded. “Of course. I can always give you the key if you let me know when you want to go.”

“Th-that would be great!” Yuuri smiled. 

“Georgi is usually in the rink in the late evenings and Alexi skates out of a club in Moscow now so the rink should be empty after lessons. I usually alternate between early mornings and afternoons…but I can just do mornings this week if you’d rather skate alone?”

“No, please don’t change your schedule because of me. I don’t mind sharing. It’s really you doing the favor for me, so…” Yuuri rambled. No, he absolutely did not want Victor to feel unwelcome at his own rink…and the possibility of skating with him again was absolutely thrilling. 

“Did I see you carrying your skate bag this morning?” Victor asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll meet you at the studio after the lessons get out and we can walk over together? I have plans tonight…” Victor said, almost regretfully. “But I can at least show you where everything is and introduce you to some of the staff there.”

Yuuri’s heart sank a little bit, but he was not about to pass up the opportunity to skate. His body was singing for the ice. “Yeah that’d be great. Spasiba,” he added with a smile. 

xXx

On the second day of camp, Yuuri learned that Victor was an avid runner. He also apparently liked to say hello to every single person he passed on the street. At seven in the morning, a time that Yuuri often struggled to complete basic human functions, let alone get in some last minute (or first minute? Did such an expression exist?) grocery shopping as he was currently attempting to do. Yuuri’s eyes were glued to Victor’s elegant form as he bounded past the store windows.

“That’s Victor Nikiforov. Do you know him?”

Yuuri’s head snapped to the right. “I do actu- oh. It’s you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, basket dangling from his elbow.

Green eyes glared back at him. “Don’t think I don’t know who you are, Yuuri Katsuki,” the boy continued, dragging out Yuuri’s name a bit longer than was necessary. “Thought you were going to be in the junior division long enough for me to turn you into borscht.”

“Into what?” Yuuri asked dumbly.

“Moron,” the boy spat. 

“I- “

“What was with your performance at Worlds anyway? You could have easily medaled. Your salchow stinks.”

“Who-“

“You better still be skating when I make my senior debut,” the boy stated, jabbing his index finger into Yuuri’s chest. 

Yuuri could only watch in stunned silence as the boy retreated to join his older guardian, suddenly all smiles, like a tiny kitten basking in the sun. No, a tiger cub, Yuuri decided as the boy sent him a final parting glare as the store bell tinkled joyously over his head. 

Yuuri went to bed that night with a fresh bruise blooming across his ass. No, it certainly was not from attempting his first quad salchow.

xXx

Yuuri’s stomach growled again as he paused at yet another street corner trying to figure out what he was going to do for dinner. All of the interesting looking items he found at the market yesterday morning had been reduced to an inedible, festering mass of brown crusted to the bottom of the hotel’s sauce pan. He ran his free hand through his hair, pulling it in frustration. He was starving to the point where he simultaneously had a taste for everything and nothing. 

Yuuri drew in a few deep breaths, focusing on the sounds of the street and chattering locals. Okay. Okay, he was going to find the cafe that he and Victor had eaten at a few days ago. The staff there seemed to know a bit of English, and would hopefully not mind if he just pointed at the same menu item Victor had ordered for him. 

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and pulled up his maps application. With a few quick taps, he as pretty sure he had the correct cafe pulled up on his GPS. He jammed in his earbuds, his life now in the hands of the navi. He took the opportunity to look at his surroundings for the first time that evening. St. Petersburg was a really interesting city, he decided. He smiled as he walked past some familiar landmarks that appeared often on Victor’s social media feeds. Yuuri drew in another deep breath as he rounded the next corner instructed by his navi. 

Yuuri nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the hand grasp his elbow. He wildly jerked his arm away, dislodging his ear bud. He swore under his breath when he realized who it was. 

“Victor! Don’t - you cant just -“

Victor was chuckling lightly despite the slight look of alarm on his face. “Sorry, Yuuri. I tried calling for you…”

Yuuri felt something nudge his knee. His eyes flicked down to meet the deep brown orbs sparkling in excitement. His face melted into a smile as he sank to his knees on the sidewalk. “Hello, Makkachin,” he laughed, ruffling the poodle’s plush fur. “You out for a walk?”

“Picking up things for dinner,” Victor said, lifting a brown bag nestled at his left hip. 

Yuuri’s stomach growled again, and Makkachin nuzzled it with a concerned expression. “Have you eaten yet?” Victor asked.

Yuuri shook his head as he stood again, brushing off his knees. “I erm…apparently was lacking in culinary inspiration tonight…it’s - well…I’ll have to leave the cleaning staff a nice tip. Or a new pot. ”

Victor laughed. “Well I’m glad we found you then. I don’t usually take this way home, but Makka was just loving the weather - we don’t get time like this to walk together during the season - so I took the long way,” Victor rambled. 

“Mmmm yeah. I’m going to miss taking Vicchan on walks,” he sighed. 

“Not taking him with you to America?”

Yuuri shook his head. “He doesn’t travel well. We took him on the train to my aunt’s and he cried the whole way. We got him some of those pills for the way home…but…. I just couldn’t put him through such a long flight.” 

Also, Yuuri remembered with a sigh, the dorms were not pet friendly. And Mari mentioned holding Vicchan hostage so that he would remember to come home every once and a while. 

Victor hummed in sympathy. “Well I have plenty of poodle to go around this week. Makka likes you very much and I think she would be very upset with me if I did not invite you over for dinner.”

Yuuri stared. Victor shifted awkwardly. “So….do you want to come over for dinner, Yuuri? Tonight?” he clarified.

“You cook?” Yuuri blurted out. 

Victor huffed, a slight quirk to his lips. “Yes?”

Yuuri felt a rush of warmth flood his face. “Ah - sorry! I mean…well…yes, I’m starving. Let’s go.”

Makkachin barked in approval and started tugging at her lead. “I cant take the bag, if you want,” Yuuri offered, falling into step alongside Victor. 

Instead, Victor offered him Makkachin’s lead. Yuuri smiled, happy to have something familiar to hold on to. His insides were buzzing with excitement. 

It wasn’t long before they arrived at a tall complex - gracefully aged, was the only way Yuuri could think to describe it. Victor buzzed open the polished brass doors and pushed the button for the elevator (it produced the most delightful ‘ping’). “Oh, would you mind…?” he asked Yuuri, holding out the bag of groceries as he fumbled for his keys. “I forgot to check the mail earlier.”

Yuuri accepted the bag with what he was sure was a bemused smile. Because he had just run into Victor and his dog on the street, and now he was holding a bag of groceries that was soon to be their dinner while Victor _checked his mail_. Logically, Yuuri knew that Victor did the same mundane tasks as the rest of the population, but it wasn’t really something he had thought about until now. Victor’s life had always been just beyond his reach.

Yuuri peered into the brown paper bag - broccoli, colored peppers, lettuce, eggs, beets, and a few smaller packages wrapped in tan paper. Nothing extravagant, all very healthy. 

“What’s on your mind, Yuuri?” Victor asked as he tipped a few envelopes into the shopping bag. 

“It’s just…this is so…” The elevator arrived and they all stepped inside. “Oddly normal?”

Victor’s laugh echoed lightly around them as he pressed the button next to the number seven, the last one in the column. The door shut and the box lurched up; Makkachin whined and nudged her face into Victor’s legs. “We usually take the stairs when we don’t have groceries,” he explained. 

Yuuri pet the poodle between her ears, which seemed to calm her a bit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Victor smile softly at him. 

Victor’s apartment was very…modern and elegant, though it was smaller than Yuuri had been expecting, especially compared to Victor’s childhood home. The walls and furnishings were contrasting neutral hues, and a wall of books lined one of the walls. “The bathroom is down the hall - it’s the door on the left,” Victor said as they removed their shoes. Yuuri nodded in thanks and removed Makkachin’s harness automatically.

“I wasn’t planning anything too elaborate,” Victor explained as he tied his hair back. “Salad okay? I don’t like to turn on the oven much in the summer.”

“That sounds good,” Yuuri said as he wandered around the apartment.

He heard the clatter of plates and the rolling of drawers being opened - he would turn back to help Victor in a minute, he decided. After he had satisfied his curiosity. There were a few pictures displayed at the end of the hallway, along with a few medals and certificates from Victor’s early days of skating. Yuuri paused to pick up a frame containing a picture of him and Victor hugging Makkachin. He ran his fingers over the glass before replacing it on the shelf. 

After using the bathroom (and peeking at a few more photos of Victor and his family, Victor and Yakov, and Victor and his local friends), Yuuri helped Victor wash and chop vegetables. “Do you get to cook much, at the onsen?” Victor asked, reaching across Yuuri’s cutting board for the vegetable peeler.

“Sometimes, when we get busy with tourism season. Mostly doing prep work like this,” he said as he gutted a red pepper, “but mom lets me do the miso and curry sometimes. But it’s mostly Mari who does the heavy lifting.”

“It must have been relaxing, growing up with a hot spring.”

Their fingers brushed as they both simultaneously reached for the sharper of the two knives. Victor quickly conceded, taking the smaller one instead. “Mmm, yeah it was nice for after practices,” Yuuri said, slicing the pepper thinly. “The minerals in the springs are supposed to have healing properties.”

“Unfair advantage,” Victor teased. “I’ll have to come visit and try them out.”

Yuuri hummed in agreement and tried not to think about lounging with Victor in the onsen as they started to plate their salads. “I’m sorry I was never able to visit, when we were younger,” Victor said softly. “I was actually really looking forward to going to that festival with you.”

“It’s okay, you had an important opportunity. It made sense that you would do that instead,” Yuuri said. At the time, he had been incredibly disappointed when Victor had told him that he wasn’t going to be able to make it for Hasetsu’s cherry blossom festival. He had a last minute sponsorship opportunity leading into his senior debut, which was part of being a World famous figure skater, Yuuri supposed. At least, he thought, it saved him the anxiety of wondering if Victor would like the yukata that he and Minako had picked out for him.

“Still…I should have made a point to reschedule. You and Minako were always so good about coming here when I asked.”

Yuuri shrugged. “It was easier since you always coordinated with camp week. You really didn’t have a reason to come all the way to Japan.”

“Seeing you would have been reason enough.”

Yuuri quickly turned to the fridge, suddenly fascinated by Victor’s selection of salad dressing, in an attempt to cool his cheeks. “We’ll have to plan again for another time. This way, it would be like a vacation for you too, since you’ll be living in America mostly,” Victor suggested. 

Yuuri hummed in agreement. “Oh, can you grab me the yellow one?” Victor asked. 

He grabbed the one Victor requested along with something that looked like a balsamic vinaigrette before joining Victor at the breakfast bar. The conversation switched to poodles, mostly Victor trying to brainstorm ways that would make it feasible for Yuuri to bring Vicchan overseas. Yuuri truly appreciated the effort. 

Yuuri offered to help with the dishes, noticing that a dishwasher was unfortunately not a fixture of the apartment. He was quickly handed a brown and cream striped towel to do the drying. Thankfully, salad did not dirty many dishes, another reason Victor preferred them for his dinner, he confessed to Yuuri later. 

Victor let out a content sigh as he plunged his hands back into the soapy water. “What?” Yuuri asked.

“Oh, just remembering the last time you came to St. Petersburg,” Victor smiled, passing the last plate to Yuuri to dry.

Yuuri snorted. “You mean the time we tried to do everything that best friends do in the span of one weekend?”

Victor laughed, turning off the faucet. “My favorite was the blanket fort, paired with trying to stay up all night watching movies and eating gelato.”

Yuuri leaned back against the cabinets. “We made it till, what - four in the morning before your mom caught us?”

“Mhmmm. I’ve never seen her so angry before in my life.”

“Yeah, that was pretty…scary,” Yuuri laughed. 

Victor raked a hand through his hair, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Want to try again?”

“Try what again?”

“Stay up all night, watching movies?”

Yuuri laughed in surprise. “We have to teach tomorrow, Victor.”

“Awwww Yuuuuriiii! So responsible,” he whined, “Just one, then. Please?” 

Yuuri rolled his eyes in jest. “Fine. Just one, for old time’s sake. And because we were about one movie away from making it all night last time.”

Victor cheered and pulled Yuuri over to the couch. Makkachin followed behind them, her tail wagging in delight. Yuuri barely had time to situate himself on the couch before she jumped up next to him and curled into his chest. “Makkachin!” Victor whined, taking his own place near the opposite arm rest. “You wound me.”

Yuuri smiled as he pat Makkachin’s head. It was different than cuddling with Vicchan, who usually preferred to curl up on top of Yuuri’s chest. Makkachin had a lot more mass as a standard poodle, and it looked like Victor had purchased his couch with this in mind.

“Ahha!” Yuuri shrieked as Victor stretched out his legs. “Your feet are freezing!”

“And you and Makkachin are so warm,” Victor smiled, burrowing his toes deeper between Yuuri’s stomach and the fluffy mass of poodle.

Yuuri stretched his feet out behind Victor, who wiggled his eyebrows as Yuuri’s toes grazed his backside. Yuuri threw a pillow at him, which Victor thanked him for as he pulled it to his chest, claiming loudly that it was ‘so much better than cuddling with a certain traitor dog he knew.’ Makkachin licked Yuuri’s hand and closed her eyes. 

Finally, Victor reached over to flick on the TV and grabbed a controller from the side table drawer. He pressed the center button and a blue light glowed from a sleek black box on the entertainment center. “Do you play games, or did you just get it for the BluRay capabilities?” Yuuri asked, noticing what it was.

“I play some,” Victor replied as he navigated through the app screen. “Mostly it’s just convenient to have everything all in one place.”

Yuuri nodded. “I had the original PlayStation as a kid, but I don’t have much time to play anymore,” he admitted. 

Victor hummed in agreement as the Netflix menu loaded. He offered the controller out to Yuuri, who politely declined stating that he didn’t really keep up with what movies were good. Victor laughed and scrolled through his list. “I’ve heard that this one is good,” he said, pulling up a picture of a girl’s face on a green background. “‘Amelie is an innocent and naive girl in Paris with her own sense of justice. She decides to help those around her and, along the way, discovers love,’” Victor read from the screen.

“A romcom?” Yuuri asked skeptically.

Victor shrugged. “They’re light and usually don’t require a lot of concentration. If it gets too…cheesy, we can turn it off. Deal?”

Yuuri nodded. He really didn’t have any objection to romantic comedies - it was more so him processing the fact that Victor also seemed to not object to them which triggered his question. This, he supposed, fit with Victor’s personality. A bigger surprise would have been that Victor liked to unwind with slasher films - an image that made Yuuri bite his lower lip to stifle a laugh. 

The movie started and Yuuri allowed himself to relax into the couch, pulling his arms more tightly around Makkachin. He chanced a glance at Victor, who was watching the screen intently. He smiled, remembering how sneaky the pair had thought they were being as they constructed their fort over the coffee table in the living room at Victor’s old house. It had been Yuuri’s idea, after seeing it in a movie once - the gelato had been Victor’s contribution. They passed the spoon between the two of them, laying shoulder to shoulder on their stomachs, quieting their laughter in Makkachin’s fur. 

Victor caught him staring and smirked as Yuuri quickly turned his attention back to the TV. The couch moved as Victor turned to pull the blanket from the back of the couch across their legs, attempting to tickle Yuuri’s sides with his feet for good measure. Makkachin huffed in protest, flicking her tail roughly into Victor’s thighs. Yuuri pat her head to soothe her back to sleep. 

Yuuri felt a soothing warmth flow through him that had nothing to do with the poodle or blanket. Did he really have to leave St. Petersburg so soon?

xXx

Yuuri was vaguely aware of a solid warm mass curled against his chest, and he automatically pressed his face into the mass of curls. Vicchan’s head was larger than normal and he smelled faintly of lavender. How strange… He stretched his free arm above his head and extended his toes as far as they could reach…and they also brushed up against something warm and smooth. 

Yuuri stilled as the solid, warm, soft mass shifted by his legs. Something heavy fell around his knees. 

“Mmmmm…time is it?”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped open. There was sunlight streaming through the windows, giving Victor’s face an ethereal glow. His heart fluttered in his chest as Victor tried to cuddle with his calves. Yuuri reached over to peek at his phone on coffee table, calming Makkachin’s protests at his movements with his other hand. “Ten to seven.”

Victor let out a long sigh, tickling Yuuri’s feet. “How did the three of us manage to sleep through the night on this couch?” he mumbled in amazement. 

Yuuri smiled as Victor rubbed the sleep from his eyes and twisted to grab his own phone from the small table behind his head. A few moments of comfortable silence passed between them, which Yuuri spent absently scratching Makkachin’s head while waking up. The quiet music from the title screen of the movie repeated again. He didn’t remember falling asleep, and felt bad because the movie had been quite good. Perhaps he would have to find it online sometime to - 

He heard a small click from across the couch. He flashed his eyes up to see Victor smiling innocently at him. Yuuri narrowed his eyes. “What? It’s not my fault you and Makka are so cute,” he shrugged.

Yuuri groaned. “Victorrrr.”

Victor laughed. “Come on, I’ll make us some breakfast and then drop you off at the hotel.”

xXx

The last day of lessons had arrived faster than Yuuri imagined it would. He spent the last day with his class teaching them a version of his first skating program, adapted for the floor. They simply loved it. Their enthusiasm gave Yuuri those warm fuzzy feelings inside of his chest. Each of his students signed a card for him, which they presented with their thanks for teaching them so much. Yuuri thanked them in turn, for teaching him a few things as well; for when one person teaches, two people learn. 

He flicked off the lights inside of the small studio before closing the door behind him with a soft click. He walked through the hallways, stopping to say goodbye to some lingering students and their parents on his way. He felt his phone buzz in his bag as he reached the front lobby. 

**[Minako-sensei, 15:12]:** Grabbing drinks with Vera. ( ￣▽￣)[]

Yuuri rolled his eyes and quickly responded, reminding her of their early flight the next morning. 

**[Minako-sensei, 15:13]:** (＞﹏＜)

Yuuri shook his head and stowed his phone back in his bag. He knew that Minako would never make them late for their flight, but it didn’t stop him from being a tad nervous. He took the remaining few strides and pushed open the doors, relishing the warm breeze. Victor was leaning against the wall next to the door, arms folded against his chest. He was wearing his usual grey sweats and black v-neck shirt, his bag slung casually over his left shoulder. 

“Mind if I join you today?” he asked. Yuuri smiled.

They started off skating warm-up figures in silence. The sound of their blades stroking the ice in tandem brought back fond memories. Yuuri started skating some more complex spins and figures, and became amused when Victor started answering them. Neither did any jumps, not wanting this to become a substantial practice.

They were drawn together at some point, skating an unspoken set of forms in parallel, perfectly in-sync. At some points they skated opposite each other, and Victor would reach out for Yuuri’s arm for a simple pairs spin. Yuuri would answer, pulling Victor into a waltz on the ice. Victor came up behind him in their spread eagle and ran his hands up Yuuri’s sides. Yuuri shivered at the contact but did not back away; he leaned more heavily into Victor’s arms. 

“A lift -“ Victor whispered.

And suddenly Yuuri was weightless.

For a moment. 

They landed in a tangled mess on the ice, laughing all the way down. Yuuri made to get up, but stopped as Victor laid his head on his stomach. “That was the most fun I have had in ages,” he said, brushing his silver locks out of his face and onto Yuuri’s chest, where the rose and fell with his labored breathing. 

Yuuri propped himself up on his elbows. “Not sure we’re ready for our pair skating debut though,” he laughed. 

Flushed in the face and sprawled across the ice, Victor looked blissful. It was his smile that Yuuri took the most notice of. This amount of pure joy was something that Yuuri had not seen on his friend’s face while skating in a very long time. 

“No, you’re probably right about that. But the rest of it was pretty good,” Victor responded, shrugging his shoulders into Yuuri’s ribcage. 

“Mmm, you’re just using me to come up with your programs for this season, aren’t you?” Yuuri joked.

Victor laughed. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet Yuuri’s.

Yuuri smiled down at him. “Guess we’ll just have to trust each other.” They both knew that this program was theirs. Just for them.

Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand in his and pulled it to his chest, closing his eyes. The contact was unexpected, but not at all unwelcome. Victor’s hands were large and warm around his. Yuuri ran his thumb experimentally against the side of Victor’s, trailing lightly down to his wrist. He flicked his eyes to Victor’s face and found that he was staring intently at the contact.

He repeated the motion. Yuuri watched as Victor’s index finger slowly curled, his finger nail barely grazing the back of Yuuri’s hand. A shiver pulsed through Yuuri’s body, causing his toes to twitch in his skate. Victor shifted his head to look at Yuuri, stroking the back of his hand with his first two fingers now in slow lazy circles. His eyes were sparkling with curiosity and amusement as Yuuri’s thumb stroked the path again. 

“Yuuri, I –“

There was a loud cough from the side of the rink. The pair jumped violently, having gotten used to the silence of their solitude. “I have to clean the ice so…you’ll have to leave,” came the gruff, heavily accented voice of the employee. 

Victor responded in Russian – Yuuri picked out the words ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’ but little else from the exchange. They found their feet and skated smoothly over to the wall. Yuuri shivered when they reached the stand to take off their skates, as the coolness of the ice that they had spent several minutes laying on finally recognized by his senses. 

They packed away their skates in silence, though Yuuri’s mind was anything but. He was feeling energized and inspired by the program they created. He knew that neither of them could, or would, use the program as their own in competition, but skating with Victor had forced Yuuri to move his body in different ways - ways he hadn’t really considered before. He wondered how he could use those new types of movements this season.

“Yuuri?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I just asked you if you have to go back to the hotel right away,” Victor said with a raised eyebrow as he slung his bag over his shoulder. 

Yuuri shook his head as he secured his own across his back. 

Victor nodded. “I have a favor to ask of you, if it’s not too much.”

“No, s’okay.”

They walked in silence, Yuuri trailing just slightly behind Victor as they went. It was brighter outside of the rink, despite the late hour, and Yuuri tilted his face to the warm rays of the evening sun. 

Victor reached his hand out for Yuuri’s skating bag when they reached his car. Yuuri shrugged it off of his shoulders and handed it to Victor. He walked around to the passenger’s side and slid into the cool leather seat. Victor joined him moments later, and they were off. 

“Where are we headed?” Yuuri finally asked.

Victor smiled softly, flicking on his right indicator before answering. “The park where I first went skating.”

“How old were you?”

“Oh, I think four or five? My aunt gave me a pair of skates for my birthday that year. My dad took me out the next day to try them out.”

“It must be nice to skate outside,” Yuuri mused.

Victor took a left turn next. “Naturally frozen water can be a bit rougher than a rink. But yeah it’s pretty great.”

They fell back into their comfortable silence as Victor turned down a path lined with trees. Yuuri watched the sun light dance across the dashboard, allowed through by the gaps in the leaves above. “It’s beautiful here,” he murmured. 

“Mmm.” 

Victor parked the car, pausing to grab a smaller bag from the backseat before they walked over towards the small lake. They chose a comfortable looking patch of grass and sat side by side, admiring the gentle sway of the water caressed by the light breeze. There were some birds bathing across the way, where the water was sure to be at it’s shallowest. 

Yuuri breathed in a deep breath and turned his attention to Victor, who was gazing absently into the water. 

“Is everything okay, Victor?”

Victor sighed. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation after the NHK cup, after your big win at nationals.”

Yuuri nodded. “Have you decided what you want to do, for this season?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

“Well, the federation wants me to retire.”

Yuuri’s heart plummeted out of his body as his mouth gaped open. “Victor - you can’t -“

Victor smiled sadly at him. “I overheard a member talking to Yakov earlier today. He said that the federation wanted some new faces with more promising futures, and ‘would he consider focusing more of his attention on some new, younger talent?’ Yakov said - “ Victor broke off in a laugh, shaking his head lightly. “Yakov told the rep to ‘go fuck himself.”

Yuuri laughed in disbelief, some of his initial alarm fading away slightly. “Yakov said that? To a member of the skating federation?!”

Victor nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Yuuri, about setting a new standard in men’s figure skating. It’s clear that my usual types of programs aren’t going to cut it any more -“

“Victor -“

“I know I know,” Victor cut in. “‘Be true to myself.’”

Yuuri smiled. “The truth is,” Victor continued, “I’ve been feeling more and more disconnected from my programs over the years, even before my injury. I think I’ve been wanting to do something more, to change in some way, and it took getting injured and allowing others to flourish for me to realize it.”

“The way we skated today…I saw you actually smile on the ice, Victor,” Yuuri said. “I haven’t seen that, not really, in a while,” he admitted. 

“I wasn’t lying. What I said earlier was true – that skating, developing that program with you, was the most fun I have had on the ice in a very long time.” 

Victor drew in a deep breath and looked back up at Yuuri. His expression was fierce and pained, and Yuuri knew then that this was a tipping point for Victor. Something monumental was happening right this moment, and Yuuri could tell from the rawness of Victor’s emotions that he was choosing to share it with him first. Something fiercely warm flared inside of him, trying to reach through his skin to get to Victor.

“Victor,” Yuuri breathed, “what can I…what do you need?” 

_I’ll do anything you want, anything you need me to do, if it brings life and love back to your routines,_ Yuuri thought.

“I’ve been wanting to reinvent my routines for a while, but had been scared that the audience wouldn’t like it. They’ve liked the programs I’ve done under Yakov and Lilia so much, and I’ve done so well with my current formula, why risk changing it? But I think I have been inspired to reach a new level. I want to start producing my own programs - choreography, music, and everything. Our skating session today has made me more sure than ever about this,” Victor paused. “Do you…do you think I can do it? Will people still like my skating?”

Yuuri found himself gaping at Victor. This was big – producing your own programs was no easy task. It was brave, gutsy…it was so…Victor. It took Yuuri a moment to recompose himself, to recover from the wave of admiration he felt towards Victor. This was a huge revelation, a big step for Victor, who must be feeling so completely vulnerable right now. Yuuri wanted Victor to know that he at least had the support of one fan, one fellow skater, one friend.

Yuuri smiled. “If you skate like you did today, everyone will love it, Victor.”

“Will you? Love it?” Victor asked, quietly.

Yuuri nodded, “Of course.”

Victor smiled and let out a breath of relief. He pulled Yuuri tight to his chest and pressed his face into Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri returned the embrace just as tightly, trying not to get his fingers too tangled in the wild silver of his hair. He inhaled the light scent of lavender and cedar that he had come to associate with Victor. 

Victor pulled away after a moment and busied himself with his bag. Yuuri noticed a few wet circles on his shoulder, and felt his heart twitch. A few moments later, he produced a pair of scissors. “I need your help with this, Yuuri. Step one of my rebirth.”

It was surprise after surprise tonight with Victor. Yuuri carefully grabbed the silver blades, and Victor pulled a black elastic off of his wrist. His eyes widened in disbelief. “H-how much?” he heard himself ask.

“All of it.”

Yuuri pulled the blades open and closed. They sounded sharp, like they would move through Victor’s hair easily, he thought. They were heavy and cold between his fingers. 

“Are you sure this is what you want, Victor?” Yuuri asked as he slid the elastic onto his own wrist. 

“Do it,” Victor nodded through gritted teeth. 

Yuuri could see the tension gathered in Victor’s jaw as he took his place behind him. He drew his hands to rub lightly at the crown of his head, trying to provide some comfort and relieve some tension. Memories of their first meeting came flooding back to Yuuri as he slowly gathered Victor’s hair down his back. It was longer and somehow even smoother between his fingers than it had been twelve years ago. Victor hummed in appreciation and relief, and Yuuri was struck by the sheer intimacy of the situation.

“I couldn’t understand a single word you were saying - the first time we met,” Yuuri murmured, securing the elastic low between Victor’s shoulder blades to allow room for the scissors. “You just kept on talking – in Russian – and I could only sit there thinking about how beautiful your hair was.” 

“It’s a good thing I’m not facing you. You’re making me blush, Yuuri.”

Yuuri could say the same thing right about now. He picked up the scissors again and hesitated briefly before separating the blades. He remembered the pain and conviction in Victor’s voice when he asked Yuuri to do this for him, and finally squeezed his hand around the metal handles. 

The dull sound of the scissors was somehow deafening. It took four cuts to work through the width. Yuuri let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding as the ponytail fell limply in his fist. It was surprisingly heavy. Yuuri put down the scissors and placed the liberated hair onto Victor’s lap. 

“How does it feel?” 

Victor spread his fingers under the silver locks, which separated and spilled over his crossed legs. “Good. I feel…lighter,” Victor said as he leaned forward to pluck a purple wildflower from the grass. He twirled the flower between his thumb and index finger. With a smile, Victor secured the flower under the black elastic before placing it under the scissors on the ground next to him.

“How does it look?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Yuuri. 

Yuuri brought his hand to his chin in mock contemplation, truly impressed at how much more relaxed Victor already appeared. “It will look better once I finish styling it,” he responded, reaching for the scissors again. “Er – well assuming it’s okay with you... I mean, you could go to a salon…but you might want to wear a hat until then.”

Victor cocked his head. “I didn’t know you could cut hair, Yuuri.”

“I used to do my own, and help Mari do hers,” he shrugged. 

Victor narrowed his eyes briefly before turning away from Yuuri. “Hmm…The whole future of my career is riding on this haircut, Yuuri. Don’t disappoint me.”

Yuuri huffed as he raised the scissors once more. If there was one thing he was determined to never do, disappointing Victor was it. The soft snipping was more calming this time around. He cut with precision, as close to Victor’s scalp as he dared near the nape of his neck. He decided that he would leave the top long, thinking it would flatter the lines of Victor’s face. 

The relaxed silence continued. Yuuri moved around Victor on his knees, coaxing one of Victor’s legs between his as he worked his way to the front and final side. The front took the most concentration for several obvious reasons, all on top of the distraction of Victor’s steady warm breath hitting the delicate flesh of his wrist.

He paused for a moment, taking his time to pull the front most sections in all directions, measuring them down Victor’s face. He glanced to Victor’s eyes and looked away when he found that they were gazing intently at him. He raised the scissors and resumed his cutting, but not before warning “Close your eyes.”

Yuuri spent the most time here, evening out the newly cut side-swept bangs. He tugged them down again (eliciting a barely audible gasp from Victor), watching closely where they landed on Victor’s cheek bone. “This won’t bother you when you skate, will it?” he wondered out loud. 

Victor shook his head lightly. 

“Hey, stop moving. Your career is in my hands, remember?” Yuuri teased. 

He realized that he was done – he had double and triple checked for uneven bits. He ran his hand through the front one last time, watching with a critical eye as the locks fell neatly against Victor’s cheek. Victor opened his eyes when Yuuri’s fingertips grazed his forehead. Yuuri’s hand stilled as their eyes locked onto one another again. 

He knew that he should move his hand off of Victors face, but he couldn’t. Instead, his fingers traveled lower and his thumb grazed the top of Victor’s cheekbone. The skin here was so soft, so delicate. A dusting of pink began to spread across the bridge of Victor’s nose. He should move, he was done, so he should move away. 

Now. 

His eyes flickered briefly to Victor’s lips, pinching his own between his teeth. Yuuri’s whole body was petrified by those stunning blue eyes, pushing and pulling heat through his veins.

“Looks that good, huh?” Victor smirked. 

And in that instant, the spell was lifted. Yuuri laughed nervously, and was able to pull his hand back to his own hair. “Um, yes?”

Victor pouted. “You don’t sound very sure about that, Yuuri.”

“No, no!” Yuuri reassured him. “It looks amazing, you look really…amazing.” He groaned internally, searching desperately for his brain-to-mouth filter.

“Well, we should probably take a picture then,” Victor said, taking the scissors from Yuuri. 

He pulled Yuuri down next to him and wrapped one arm behind Yuuri’s back, pulling their sides together. Victor leaned into Yuuri to grab his phone from his pocket. Yuuri relished their closeness, the feeling of a warm body pressed against his own. Victor took a minute to admire his new style in the front facing camera mode. Once satisfied he leaned back into Yuuri.

“Ready?” 

Yuuri nodded and smiled into the camera. The shutter sounded and their selfie appeared on the screen. Victor didn’t pull away after, and Yuuri took the opportunity to lean on Victor’s shoulder to view the final shot. “Mmm, looks good.” 

“I’ll send it to you.”

Moments later, his phone buzzed lightly next to him. Victor tightened his arm around Yuuri and brought his nose to nuzzle into black hair. 

“Thank you,” Victor breathed.

“Mmmm,” was the only response Yuuri could muster in that moment.

“Can I come visit you? In Detroit, I mean?”

Yuuri looked up at Victor in surprise. “You’d want to?” he asked.

Victor laughed and nodded. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I had a lot of fun with you this week.”

Yuuri felt his cheeks redden. Victor traced his finger tips along Yuuri’s jaw line. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered, Yuuri,” he cooed.

Their eyes met again and Yuuri felt his breath hitch in his chest. Victor bit his bottom lip between his teeth as his thumb ran hesitantly under Yuuri’s own bottom lip. 

_Oh…what…when…Oh…?!_

A vibration coursed through Yuuri’s body.

A literal vibration. 

Yuuri jumped to the side, scrambling to grab his phone out of his pocket. Victor withdrew his arm from Yuuri’s sides and pulled his knees into his chest. 

“It’s Minako,” Yuuri explained as he tapped the green icon.

Yuuri listened as best he could to his instructor, trying to push down his annoyance at the interruption of…whatever it was that was happening between him and Victor. 

Yuuri sighed. “Okay, I’ll see you soon,” he said.

Yuuri looked back up to Victor. A twinge of pleasure coursed through him as he dared himself to believe that he saw his disappointment mirrored in Victor’s own face. “She and your mother apparently need some assistance getting back from the bar,” Yuuri explained, stuffing the phone back into his pocket.

Victor sighed as they pulled themselves up off of the grass. “We should probably go and get them then. I can drive you both back to the hotel.”

“She’s going to regret this in the morning. We kind of have an early flight back,” Yuuri explained. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Victor asked.

Yuuri nodded. “I have to pack, move-in day is next week.”

“Well I’m sorry that you had to spend your last night in St. Petersburg listening to me…” Victor made a dismissive gesture with his hand as they approached the car. 

“No, I had a good time, “ he started. “I’m really glad that I was able to help, I hope?”

Victor smiled at him as he opened Yuuri’s door. “Of course you helped, Yuuri.”

They spent the ride to the bar in peaceful silence, both perhaps realizing that the car would be less than serene as soon as they picked up their passengers. It was quite the trip back to the hotel from the bar. Yuuri had to stop Minako from canceling their flights - twice - though he did not feel the need to intervene when Mrs. Nikiforov started reminiscing about Victor’s childhood. Victor had opted to turn up the radio at this point, which his mother noticed, which spurred a quick argument in Russian…which ended with both of them pouting and Minako laughing after she had stolen Yuuri’s glasses. 

All the while, Victor rested his arm alongside Yuuri’s on the center counsel, their fingers occasionally flicking against each other. It was too loud in the car for Yuuri to process this information, though he did try to calm himself by being logical - that there probably wasn’t any information to process. The atmosphere between them would naturally be emotionally charged after what had happened by the lake. Being around Victor had always stirred the butterflies in his stomach, so this wasn’t any different. See? Logical.

Finally, FINALLY, they reached the hotel drive. Victor threw the car in park before jumping out of it to steady Minako, who ended up stumbling gracefully out of the car. She leaned briefly into Victor’s chest, whispering something in his ear as she removed her heels. Victor’s face flushed pink as she kissed his cheek before turning to walk towards the clear glass doors. 

“I’ll meet you in the lobby, Yuuri,” she called back over her shoulder with a wink.

Victor turned and opened Yuuri’s door. Yuuri accepted his out stretched hand, pulling himself from the leather seat. Victor shut the door lightly behind him and went to go retrieve his bag from the trunk. He set it on the ground next to Yuuri. 

“Thanks, again, for tonight,” Victor said, running his hand through his hair. “Wow, that will take some time to get used to.”

“I bet you’ll save a lot of money on shampoo,” Yuuri responded. He barely resisted the urge to cover his face with his hands. 

Victor laughed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he said. 

“Umm, well…”

Victor pulled him in to a tight hug, which Yuuri gladly returned. He closed his eyes and pulled his face closer to Victor’s neck, searching again for the familiar scent of lavender and cedar. They pulled away, but Victor didn’t let him go too far. He ghosted his hand over Yuuri’s cheek. His lips parted.

_Oh…!(?)_

“Vityaaaaaa.”

Victor sighed some harsh words, and responded to his mother in rapid Russian over his shoulder. Yuuri’s cheeks were burning under Victor’s lingering touch. 

“I have to go,” Victor whispered.

“Yeah, me too. Minako is waiting,” Yuuri responded, releasing Victor from his grasp. 

Yuuri barely suppressed a literal squeak as Victor’s lips were pressed firmly into the side of his forehead. It lasted no more than a second, but the ghost of that kiss would linger for weeks after this night, Yuuri knew. Victor’s hands came to squeeze Yuuri’s shoulders. 

“I’ll see you?” Victor asked.

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

They exchanged a soft smile. Victor headed back to his car, and Yuuri entered the hotel. He looked back in time to see Victor pulling away. His mother appeared to be tugging at his hair and sobbing heavily into the back of Victor’s headrest.

Yuuri found Minako draped over an arm chair in the lobby. “So’d he kiss you?” she asked as he approached. 

“Minako!” 

She giggled. “Well, did he? Vera says he talks about you nonstop.”

Yuuri shook his head as he helped her up. “It’s not like that. Victor doesn’t…we aren’t…”

“Mmmmm…you know, boys who haven’t kissed anyone before they turn twenty change into frogs.”

Yuuri sighed as he dragged Minako over to the elevator. “It’s time for you to get some sleep, Minako.”

“Rrrribit,” she choked out. They both burst out laughing.

Yuuri flopped down onto the bed some time later, letting it swallow his tired body whole. Getting Minako to bed had not been an easy task, especially after all of the skating he had done earlier in the day. Somehow, he had found the strength to shower, telling himself it would allow him to sleep in a bit longer before his flight. 

“So’d he kiss you?” Minako’s words floated back through his brain. Yuuri pressed his face into the pillow, not sure what exactly he was annoyed with the most: Minako’s silly question or the fact that maybe, maybe, he had actually wanted Victor to kiss him. But did he though? The notion was absolutely terrifying…but also made his heart flutter…maybe out of fear…but maybe not?

_Later_ , he thought. He would think about this later, when he wasn’t riding an emotional high or about to move across the world. 

His phone pinged somewhere underneath the sheets.

**[Victor, 01:26]:** Goodnight Yuuri! 

Yuuri smiled and quickly saved the picture Victor had sent him earlier as the new contact image before replying: Goodnight! zzzZZzz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up in 2 weeks if all goes according to plan!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t even tell you how much I love reading all of your feedback on this fic so far!! So thank you all for even taking the time to read this. You are all amazing!!

**_Early September 2011_**

**[Victor, 15:07]:** Ohayou 

**[Yuuri, 15:07]:** ?  
**[Yuuri, 15:07]:** It’s 3 pm…not exactly morning lol

 **[Victor, 15:07]:** I thought all college kids slept until noon?

 **[Yuuri, 15:07]:** I had barre practice at 5 this morning and you know it 

**[Victor, 15:07]:** confession….  
**[Victor, 15:08]:** I don’t speak Japanese…  
**[Victor, 15:08]:** (^ ♡ −)☆

 **[Yuuri, 15:08]:** konnichiwa is good afternoon

 **[Victor, 15:08]:** Oh….I knew that one actually

 **[Yuuri, 15:08]:** (－‸ლ)

 **[Victor, 15:09]:** How are classes going?

 **[Yuuri, 15:09]:** Great!  
**[Yuuri, 15:09]:** My Econ prof seems a bit scary, but otherwise I think it will be fine.

 **[Victor, 15:09]:** Wow! They require economics for dance majors now?

 **[Yuuri, 15:09]:** It’s for my minor  
**[Yuuri, 15:10]:** My parent’s requirement for letting me move over here  
**[Yuuri, 15:10]:** Just in case I end up running the onsen some day

 **[Victor, 15:11]:** Run the onsen?

 **[Yuuri, 15:12]:** For when I retire at the ripe old age of 24  
**[Yuuri, 15:12]:** (- _ −)

 **[Victor, 15:12]:** Yuuri!  
**[Victor, 15:12]:** That’s too soon!  
**[Victor, 15:12]:** .｡･ﾟﾟ･(＞︵ ＜)･ﾟﾟ･｡  
**[Victor, 15:13]:** You have to skate forever! 5 World Champion titles at least

 **[Yuuri, 15:13]:** LMAO 5?!?!?! Is that even humanly possible?  
**[Yuuri, 15:13]:** I don’t think my metabolism will let me skate forever  
**[Yuuri, 15:13]:** Apparently everyone in my family gains 30 pounds the day after their 30th birthday

 **[Victor, 15:14]:** ヽ(° ︵ °)ﾉ  
**[Victor, 15:17]:** But seriously, is running the onsen what you want?

 **[Yuuri, 15:25]:** I just joined my first club!  
**[Yuuri, 15:26]:** I’m going to be in musical productions  
**[Yuuri, 15:26]:** (￣▽￣)/♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

 **[Victor, 15:26]:** LOL  
**[Victor, 15:26]:** Can I come see?

 **[Yuuri, 15:26]:** My suite mates forced me  
**[Yuuri, 15:27]:** and NO.

 **[Victor, 15:27]:** Pleaseeee???

 **[Yuuri, 15:27]:** NO!  
**[Yuuri, 15:27]:** I have to get ready for practice

 **[Victor, 15:27]:** (╯︵╰,)  
**[Victor, 15:28]:** I should be getting to sleep  
**[Victor, 15:28]:** Makka is sitting by my bed whining

 **[Yuuri, 15:29]:** Tell Makka I said hi! 

 

 **[Victor, 16:02]:** My GP assignments had a last minute change  
**[Victor, 16:02]:** NHK and Rostelecom now - no Skate America (＞︵ ＜)  
**[Victor, 16:02]:** I can still say hi to Vicchan for you!!  
**[Victor, 16:02]:** But looks like we’ll have to postpone my trip to Detroit

 **[Victor, 16:10]:** Oh!!! They announced the location for the final — Fukuoka  
**[Victor, 16:10]:** Will you be back in Japan that early?  
**[Victor, 16:10]:** We can get you tickets.  
**[Victor, 16:10]:** Assuming I make it.  
**[Victor, 16:11]:** Anyway… Goodnight!

xXx

“Yes! Yuuri! That was perfect!”

Yuuri smiled as he started his step sequence. He had been working on that jump combination since last season and was finally landing it with some measure of consistency in practice. It was truly amazing how much he had improved over the last two months in Detroit while training regularly with Celestino. 

It had taken some time to get used to his coaching methods and expectations. Yuuri’s previous coaches, while they had been exceptional, had been content to allow Yuuri to exist within his own comfort zone. Celestino said he saw untapped potential in Yuuri and began pushing him outside of his box from day one of training, especially here in Detroit.

“Bellissimo!” Celestino praised as Yuuri pulled out of his layback spin.

Yuuri was feeling good - great even. He could feel the faint twinge of fatigue starting to creep into his legs, but it was more than offset by his coach’s praise. 

He was a painter mere strokes away from completing a master piece that would be remembered for eternity. He was a composer a few notes away from a symphony that would be played for God himself. He was the most beautiful dancer steps away from captivating the object of his desire, ice blue eyes incapable of looking away.

It all rode on his final jump of the short program - his Achilles heel, the salchow. He entered into his mohawk turn. _It’s not too late to turn this into a triple loop,_ he told himself. He wiped the thought from his head and went for the sal, as planned.

He landed it perfectly and spun into his final pose. Celestino clapped from the bleachers and Yuuri made his way over to his water bottle. “Skate like that in two weeks and you’ll have no problem with the next qualifier. In fact, I want you to start working that last sal into a quad. Not in competitions yet of course, but I think if we really start going on it now it could be ready in time for nationals.”

Yuuri laughed in disbelief. “But I only just started landing the triple consistently!” he protested. 

“Yuuri,” Celestino interrupted firmly, “It’s there, you have the stamina for it. Honestly, there are times that you are so fierce in the take off that I think you’re going to get the extra rotation anyway. I cannot remember the last time you didn’t land your triple, or even touched down after a landing - you certainly haven’t here in this rink at least. It’s time.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows furrowed. He had just gotten comfortable. “But…”

“Listen, Yuuri. If you want to be competitive, _actually competitive_ , next season, we are going to have to start taking some risks. Your step sequences and spins have always rivaled skaters like Nikiforov,” Celestino paused for a minute to allow Yuuri to finish choking on his water, “and I know that your stamina can match the jump expectations set by Giacometti and the others. You just have to believe it.”

“Practice is done for the day. Go get some rest and we’ll start with those quad sals tomorrow, okay?”

Yuuri sighed, but nodded in agreement. The reality of just how close he was to skating against Victor and the others he had come to adore over the years had finally closed in on him. He had leant his sympathetic ear, support and advice to Victor who was struggling through the same realization about the new program expectations, but had only just realized that he himself was in the same exact boat. 

Yuuri tapped the home button on his phone.

_iMessages: Victor Nikiforov (9 new), Minako-sensei (1 new), Mari Katsuki (2 new), Mitch Kelley (3 new)._

He slipped it back into his pocket for now and pulled his keys out of his bag. His 2006 Honda Civic wasn’t anything fancy, but she got the job done. The radio still worked, which helped to pass the time during his half hour drive back to campus. 

Yuuri unlocked the door to his suite and was greeted by chorus tunes being played loudly on their shared speaker system. 

“Yuuri!” his suite mate, Mitch, greeted him. “We’re doing CHICAGO!”

“That didn’t take long for the director, erm Dave? (Mitch nodded) - to decide,” he laughed, kicking of his shoes. 

“Mmmhmmm. Apparently it was you that convinced him.”

“Me? But I only just met him…” 

“Yup. He wants to talk to you, by the way - something about you having an interesting dance skill listed on your resume?” 

Yuuri froze, sincerely hoping that he was not going to walk into one of his professor’s offices to talk about the pole dancing workshop he attended with Minako last spring. “Oh?” he shrugged in what he hoped was a casual manner. 

“Any idea what that might be?” Mitch probed.

Yuuri ruffled his hair. “Aha, um my resume isn’t really that great. I’m not sure that I have anything that unique…”

Mitch shrugged. “I’m just passing along the message. Any plans tonight?” Mitch asked, turning down the volume a bit. 

“Reading and probably a few Skype calls,” he responded thinking back to the missed texts on his phone. 

“Kay, I’ll keep this down out here then.”

“Thanks!” Yuuri responded as he walked back to his room.

He tossed his skate bag down and immediately flopped onto his bed. Yuuri read through the last few texts from Victor, his mood souring a bit at the news that his GP schedule had been changed. 

The announcements had come out just after camp had finished, and Victor had texted him excitedly saying that he was scheduled for Skate America and NHK (to which Yuuri had to act completely surprised because, no he had not been stalking the ISU page for the posting). And - would you believe it - Skate America was being held in Detroit, at Yuuri’s home rink! The pair had spent the next few days going over the best way for Victor to extend his trip to see Yuuri. 

Yuuri was going to pick him up from his hotel at 7:00 AM the Monday after the gala. They were going to drop Victor’s things off in Yuuri’s dorm room, eat breakfast in the cafeteria (at Victor’s insistence), then attend Yuuri’s micro econ lecture, then do a tour of the campus, lunch, ballet drills, a power study session, skating, dinner, and finally end the day with two of them watching the newest season of 30 Rock that had finally appeared on Netflix that summer. 

Lather, rinse, repeat for three glorious days. 

Yuuri had been a little antsy that Victor had not been scheduled for the event in his own country. He knew that it was not uncommon for the higher ups to renegotiate the schedule later for their ‘local favorites’ to appear…and it looked like the Russians did just that. While Yuuri was glad that Victor was still in favor enough for the Russian skating federation to fight for him to be at Rostelecom, it had meant that they would need to cancel their delightful plans.

It also meant that Yuuri was going to have to go even longer trying to figure out what he felt when he was around Victor - what he felt for Victor. And what - if anything - Victor felt for him. He could not longer lie to himself that it was the emotional circumstances and the drunken comment from Minako on the last night of camp that sent him to bed thinking about Victor’s mouth. 

Yuuri had been reaching out for Victor long before that. The magnetic feeling, the intrinsic need to touch Victor far extended the bonds of friendship, or at least for Yuuri they did. A thorough analysis of his behavior was one nod towards his true feelings, the churning in his stomach and flutter of his heart around Victor was another…

…and then there was the fact that Yuuri had not been able to stop thinking about kissing Victor now that he had started. 

What would it feel like, Yuuri wondered. Soft, likely much smoother than his own due to Victor’s compulsive use of his lip balm. Would he taste like his lip balm, sweet vanilla citrus, like it smelled? 

How would he look after they had shared their first kiss? Would he smile sweetly down at Yuuri, his hands cupping Yuuri’s flushed pink cheeks? Would Victor’s eyes light up in surprise when Yuuri pulled his head down for their lips to crash together again, his fingers tightly tangled in his silver hair? Would he use his tongue? (Did Yuuri even want him to use his tongue?!? Yuuri ran his own tongue over his lips, and decided that yes, yes he did Victor to use his tongue.)

Yuuri remembered the searing kiss that Victor had planted against his temple when they last parted. He shivered as he touched the spot - where else would Victor kiss him? Yuuri exhaled a shaky breath as he tried to pull himself away from these thoughts. His pants had started to grow a bit snug, despite the attention he had paid himself earlier that morning while reflecting on a similar subject matter. His face flushed in guilt. 

Yes, he was absolutely attracted to Victor and the attraction clearly now extended beyond their friendship and emotional connection. But…was Victor in the same place he was? Sometimes, Yuuri dared to believe that he was. He reminded himself that, just because Victor hadn’t actually kissed him at camp, didn’t mean that he wasn’t dealing with the same sudden onslaught of feelings that Yuuri was. 

Other times, Yuuri wasn’t so sure. Like tonight, for example. Victor had so casually brushed off their plans after Skate America saying that they’d ‘postpone it’. It was a cold reminder that even meeting Victor in the first place was a happy coincidence, and their continued meetings were a matter of convenience. Even if they did feel the same way about each other, how would it even work?

And then there was the additional fact that Yuuri had absolutely no idea what he would do if it didn’t work out and Victor faded from his life. Thinking about Victor in this new light had helped Yuuri realize how big of a space in his life Victor had always occupied. Victor was easily his best friend and the thought of no longer having the man in his life made his brain spin and his chest tighten with anxiety. 

He curled his knees into his chest and spent an unreasonable amount of time contemplating how to respond to Victor’s texts.

 **[Yuuri, 18:47]:** I understand, of course we can reschedule  
**[Yuuri, 18:47]:** I should be back in Japan just after my birthday, assuming my early exam requests get approved  
**[Yuuri, 18:48]:** So yea, get me a ticket - you’re paying because I’m a broke college kid now  
**[Yuuri, 18:48]:** (^_~)

 **[Yuuri, 18:54]:** We can say hi to Vicchan together after, if you want. The train ride isn’t terrible.

He let the phone drop onto the pillow beside his face. Yuuri had debated sending that last message, but ultimately closed his eyes and did it. He reluctantly rolled out of bed to sate his demanding stomach.

 

 **[Victor, 23:38]:** (*°♡°*) ♡♡♡♡♡  
**[Victor, 23:38]:** ∪＾ェ＾∪

 

**_Late September 2011 - Chu-Shikoku-Kyushu Regional Qualifier_**

“Katsuki!” A hand thumped against Yuuri’s upper back. “You finally made it.”

“Takeshi!” Yuuri smiled. “Nice to see you.”

“Mmm, some scrawny junior skater beat me last year in the final, forcing me to qualify this year.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “He sends his deepest apologies and regrets it very much, trust me.”

Takeshi laughed. “Apology accepted. But don’t got easy on me just because this is my last year.”

Yuuri frowned. “What? You’re…”

“Retiring? Yup,” Takeshi smiled sadly.

“Why?” Yuuri asked, genuinely confused. Takeshi had never sustained any injuries and had always done well representing Japan.

“Yuuri! Time for warm-ups,” Celestino called.

Yuuri walked with Takeshi closer to the ice for their warm up skate. “So I actually wanted to talk to you about that, the reason I’m retiring,” Takeshi started as they removed their skate guards side by side. “Can we grab dinner after this? Even take out back to the hotel room is fine.”

Yuuri nodded as he stepped onto the ice. “Take-out sounds good. There’s a place Minako and I found a few years ago nearby.”

Takeshi nodded. “Good luck, Yuuri-kun!” he winked before pushing himself off of the wall. 

Yuuri drew in a few deep breaths as he found a clear quadrant of the rink. He pushed his reunion with Takeshi to the back of his mind; it was time to get into character for his short program skate. 

xXx

The turn out for the regional qualifier was normally quite small, meaning that competitors had to skate both of their programs on the same day. Yuuri was exhausted by the time he was handed his small bouquet of roses and first place certificate. He posed for a few pictures with Takeshi and the 3rd place skater, who was also rumored to be retiring this year. 

Yuuri tried to ignore the fact that all of the names he had come to associate with Japanese figure skating were slowly fading into retirement. 

“I called in an order to be delivered to your room at 8:30. Will that be enough time?” Takeshi asked as they headed over to the press corner.

Yuuri nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

The press coverage was quite limited from what he was used to, but it didn't bother Yuuri. He preferred to answer as few questions as possible - he tended to ramble passionately as he got more comfortable with the reporters, which sometimes got him into some embarrassing situations later on. Thankfully, the session wrapped quickly. 

He arrived back at his hotel room with just enough time to shower and pack up his gear for his flight the next morning. His phone pinged from the bedside table. 

**[Takeshi, 20:26]:** Here

Yuuri rolled his eyes and opened the door. Takeshi was leaning against the wall, scrolling through something on his phone and holding a take out bag that smelled simply divine. 

“You still celebrate with katsudon, right?”

Yuuri nodded as he showed his friend inside. “Though usually only after competitions with medals.”

Takeshi shrugged and knelt down to lay out the containers on the small table in the corner of the room. “You skated really well today,” he commented.

“Thanks - I enjoyed what I was able to watch of your program as well,” Yuuri admitted, sitting down in front of the feast. 

“Still retiring though,” Takeshi sighed. 

So they were going to get right to it, then. “So you’ve said,” Yuuri said, sliding some mixed vegetables next to his pork cutlet. He was practically drooling - this alone would have been enough to convince him to participate in more competitions this season. 

“You know I’m still seeing Yuuko?” Takeshi half-asked, flitting his eyes up to Yuuri’s for a brief moment. 

Yuuri nodded slowly. “Yeah, she said you guys were planning a trip to Tokyo for hanami this spring.”

Takeshi nodded. The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of ravenous eating and the rustling of take out containers.

“I’mgoingtoaskhertomarryme.”

Yuuri paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “What?”

Takeshi dropped his with a clatter and fished something out of his pocket. “Do you…do you think she’ll take me?” he whispered. 

Yuuri looked down to see a small gold band twinkling up from a bed of black velvet. “What?” he asked again.

“Yuuri! You are killing me!” Takeshi groaned. “Please LISTEN. I want to marry Yuuko. Do you think she will say yes? To-to me…”

“Oh!” Yuuri gasped. “Yeah - oh wow- of course she’ll say yes. It’s Yuuko - she adores you!” he recovered. 

Takeshi’s eyes narrowed after a moment of relief. “She talks about me? What does she say?”

Yuuri held up his hands, palms out in defense. “Ahaa…enough for me to know she’ll say yes?” and more, he added as an after thought, cringing at the thought of an overly detailed heart-to-heart he had had with her a few months ago. “Yes, she’ll say yes for sure.”

Yuuri watched Takeshi’s face lapse into a blissful smile as he laughed. “Okay, okay. So she’ll say yes. Wow. I’m getting married.”

“Well I mean you actually have to ask her first,” Yuuri laughed, finally bringing the steaming piece of pork to his mouth. 

Takeshi choked on his rice. “And she’ll say yes!” Yuuri confirmed again. “Is this why you are retiring? I mean, there are plenty of married figure skaters.”

Takeshi’s face turned a whole new shade of red. “Ahha…ummm…well…” he started, “Oh fuck, Yuuko’s going to kill me for telling you…but it’s unavoidable.”

Yuuri looked at his friend in concern. “We found out a few weeks ago - AFTER I bought this,” he said gesturing to the black box between them, “that she’s…expecting.”

Yuuri felt the color drain from his face. “Yuuri? Yuuri? Oh shit, Yuuri! Don’t hit your…”

Yuuri opened his eyes some time later (a few seconds, according to Takeshi), with a sharp pain in the back of his head. 

 

**_Early November, 2011_**

Something was wrong with Victor. 

The online stream Yuuri had managed to find of the NHK Trophy was blurry at best, but he didn’t need the sharp image to know that something was very off. Victor’s pre warm-up interview was blunt, his smile was exaggerated, and his eyes were dead. Yakov kept his responses limited to simple ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, when he usually spoke a few more gruff, but supportive, words. 

And then there was the mystery man standing on Victor’s other side, who would squeeze Victor’s shoulders during interviews in a way that Yuuri did not like, especially since Victor seemed to flinch away at the contact. 

The few quick Google searches Yuuri tried didn’t tell him a whole lot about this man, but it was very curious that he also appeared at press events with Georgi Popovich, a few of Yakov’s female pupils, and even with Alexi - Yakov’s former pupil who had switched rinks and coaches for this season. Yuuri was hoping to catch a name today on the stream, or at least get some information as to who this man was and why he was there. 

Yuuri sat on his bed with his knees drawn into his chest. Victor would be skating third today, middle of the pack, right before the hometown favorite and current national champion in Japan. 

Yuuri kept picking up and putting down his phone, opening and closing the messaging app. He had already exchanged the usual ‘Good luck today!’ texts with Victor hours before the press coverage started, but he was worried. He wanted to ask Victor if everything was okay, but would that make Victor anxious? He had typed and deleted multiple iterations of this message over and over again. He should probably just leave it and wait to talk to Victor until later. 

His phone pinged as he stood up, intending to hide it out of sight in his desk drawer. 

**[Victor, 21:00]:** Something on your mind?

Yuuri froze.

 **[Victor, 21:00]:** Those little dots have been teasing me for the last half hour.  
**[Victor, 21:00]:** I have a few minutes now

Yuuri exhaled. Well, now he had to say something, didn’t he? But what was there to say? He had to think fast though - Victor said he had a few minutes to spare and Yuuri didn’t want him to take the ice thinking that something was wrong. So he went with a mostly-truth:

 **[Yuuri, 21:02]:** Just thinking about you  
**[Yuuri, 21:02]:** I have the stream pulled up now, but it’s crap  
**[Yuuri, 21:02]:** Wish I was there in person

The dots wiggled below his last message. Then stopped. Then they wiggled for a bit longer. They stopped again. Then a just a quick flash - 

**[Victor, 21:04]:** thanks

Yuuri’s stomach turned over. He waited and waited for the dots to reappear, but nothing happened. And then he knew - _he knew_. Something was incredibly wrong with Victor. His ribcage tightened around his lungs and squeezed at his heart. 

Yuuri frantically paced around his room, paying no attention to the first two skaters in Victor’s group. 

The broadcasters announced Victor’s name and Yuuri scrambled back into his bed, pulling his computer onto his lap. He caught them saying something very curious as Victor did his cursory lap around the rink. It must have been the poor stream quality because Yuuri had thought that the female anchor had said that Victor’s program was choreographed by…some name that definitely was not Victor’s. But Yuuri knew that wasn’t possible - Victor was going to do all of that himself this year, that was what they had decided their last night of camp. 

Yuuri made a mental note of the name anyway so he could do a proper Google search later. For now, his attention was completely on Victor. 

Victor came to a stop in the center of the ice, and Yuuri watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took deep preparatory breath. Not good - Victor was very, very tense. Yuuri fisted his sweats in his hands as he willed some positive thoughts to reach his friend. _Come on,_ he thought. _You can do this._

And for the first time in his life, Victor was a stranger to Yuuri. 

His body was out there skating, but it wasn’t _him_. While he was executing his jumps with success (for the most part), the entrances were not nearly as elegant and seamless as usual. The choreography seemed rushed almost, as if their sole purpose was to power through and fill time until it was time for the next technical element. The step sequences were…simple and safe. When it came time for the final spin sequence, Victor looked exhausted. 

Yuuri had been so distracted by the foreign display before him, that he almost missed the anchors commenting that Victor’s short program had the ‘highest base technical score for the season so far’ and that he was the ‘only skater attempting three quads’ and had a ‘very difficult entrance to his triple axel.’

Victor had sweat lingering in his hair line in the kiss and cry and his face was unreadable. After what seemed like an eternity of watching Victor and Yakov sit in silence as the other man smiled and waved at the cameras, the scores finally posted. Victor earned the highest technical score of the night, but his PCS was the lowest that Yuuri had ever seen from him. 

Yuuri watched for Victor to react, but he seemed unmoved. He did offer a little wave to the cameras and a weak smile as his name appeared at the top of the scoreboard, but it was clear that he wasn't really ‘there’. 

Yuuri was severely shaken and confused. What had just happened?

No longer interested in the broadcast, Yuuri distracted himself by investigating the name he thought he heard mentioned as Victor’s choreographer. And - there was the mystery man. 

He spent the next hour and a half reading article after article about Iosef’s half-baked career as a dancer in Moscow, finally making it to articles that explained why he was with Victor and all of Russia’s top figure skaters. 

It was unbelievable - Yuri didn’t want to, but he knew that the had to ask Victor about it. 

**[Yuuri, 00:25]:** Call me?

 **[Victor, 00:47]:** 15 mins?

 **[Yuuri, 00:47]:** k

Yuuri somehow found the courage to ask Victor about Iosef on the call. Victor spoke in hushed whispers as he told Yuuri that he and Yakov were told in August that Iosef was going to be choreographing all of the routines for Russia’s prized skaters. The exact phrasing of the request by the Russian skating federation was ‘we highly suggest Iosef for everyone who wants to remain relevant’ followed by a strict reminder that, while season scores are used to determine who qualifies for ISU events, it’s the federation who gets the final say as to who is sent to them (save for the Grand Prix Final). 

Victor and Yakov had been forced to scrap both of the programs Victor had already put together for that season. Apparently they had fought it for a while, but then sponsors inexplicably started to pull out of deals with the junior and novice skaters. They finally conceded after one of their most promising novice skaters, who had just moved to St. Petersburg from Moscow to train with Yakov, lost so many sponsors that he was not going to be able to pay entrance fees for any competitions. 

While sponsorship did not affect Victor’s ability to pay coaching fees and other expenses, he was the exception rather than the rule. Understandably, he could not have it on his conscious that his stubbornness prevented others from pursuing their dreams. 

The day after Victor announced the change in his program plans, sponsors came flooding back to his rink mates. 

Victor explained that it is a technically brutal program, but not beyond his limits. Yuuri quickly agreed and complimented his stamina - that, at least, he could be honest about. He was not so quick to agree with Victor’s logic that it’s early in the season and that the kinks will get worked out and the emotions will catch up to the piece as the season goes on. 

“R-right, Yuuri?”

“If you think so, then I believe that you are capable of it,” was how Yuuri chose to respond. 

The only thing that stopped him from yelling - truly yelling - was the knowledge that this would only hurt Victor. He was trapped and Yuuri hated it. He found himself shamefully hoping that Victor - and all of the other skaters from Russia - had a train wreck of a season. The thought almost brought tears of guilt to his eyes, but if his wish came true, then maybe Victor would be allowed to rise from the ashes as something beautiful - broken, but beautiful. 

“I know it’s late for you, Yuuri. But…” Victor sighed. “Can you…just keep the call connected? Even if you fall asleep. I’ll be quiet, I just…”

“Yeah. O-okay,” Yuuri quickly agreed. “Let me find my charger though and set a back-up alarm.”

“Do you have an actual alarm clock, Yuuri?”

Yuuri confirmed that yes, he did have one and added that it was covered in Pokemon and poodle stickers. This earned him a laugh that caused Yuuri’s heart to flutter. He would spill all of the most embarrassing facts about himself to Victor in exchange for those laughs. 

So, he started talking. 

He told Victor about everything and anything that passed through his mind.

The time he refused to wear his dancer’s belt to his first recital. 

The time he had stabbed himself in the eye when applying eyeliner before a competition resulting in deep smudgy under eye circles, but the press loved the dramatic effect it added to his program.

The time he asked Mari and Minako what ‘bondage’ and ‘lingerie’ meant after seeing the theme for one of Victor’s previous programs. He had just turned thirteen.

The time he thought he could sneak Vicchan into school with him. The time he choreographed ballet duet for himself and Vicchan (of which Victor demanded footage).

The time that Yuuko gave him a poster of Victor from his final Junior World Championships that he already owned, but instead of exchanging it he hung one in his room and the other in his locker at Ice Castle. 

“Wow, you had a poster of me, Yuuri?” Victor laughed. 

Yuuri bit his lip. Any other night, he would have agreed and let the conversation end there, but tonight… “I had several actually,” he admitted.

“Yuuri! How many? Which ones?”

“A lot - at least one for every season,” he confessed with a whine.

Yuuri heard some hurried movements on Victor’s end of the line. “Victor, what are you doing?” he asked after a few minutes of verbal silence. 

“One minute…why are these so hard to find?” 

A few more taps and frustrated mumblings in Russian later, Victor announced that he was back. “I had to find one of you. It was more difficult than I was expecting,” Victor explained. 

“One what?”

“My own Yuuri Katsuki poster! I got two - someone on eBay was selling the set from your Junior Worlds program last year.”

Poster…on eBay?! “Victorrrr,” Yuuri whined. “You have a picture - an actual picture - of us framed in your apartment. This was really unnecessary…”

He could hear Victor smirking over the phone. It was annoying. “That’s different. I have that picture up because I’m your friend. I need these posters because I’m your _fan_.”

“I - you’re ridiculous,” he huffed. 

Victor laughed and a comfortable silence fell between them. “Ohayou,” Victor finally sighed wistfully.

Yuuri smiled into his pillow as he used his free hand to flip up the flaps of the cheap plastic blinds. It still wasn’t late enough in the morning for the sun to be up this time of year, but Yuuri could tell it wouldn’t be too long now. “Ohayou,” he replied. 

“Do you have practice this morning?”

Yuuri nodded, then laughed. “Yeah, but a later start on Sundays. I still have three hours.”

“I should let you sleep. I should probably be getting to bed soon too.”

Yuuri opened his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words for how he felt. 

“Yuuri,” Victor started, “please…will you watch again tomor- ah today? The free skate?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“I…it’s not what I wanted it to be, but I think I will feel better knowing you are watching.”

“Okay. I’m sure it will be…”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will be,” Victor sighed. “I just want to get to the final.”

Yuuri smiled. He knew that Victor meant that he wanted to get his career back on track, but a small part of Yuuri also hoped Victor was thinking about their plans to meet up at the event. 

“I’ll talk to you later?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah, I’ll call you after, if that’s okay.”

“Oyasuminasai - erm goodnight,” Yuuri said.

Victor chuckled. “Ohayou - kind of.”

Yuuri smiled as the call ended. He stretched out on his bed, his body and mind so far past exhausted that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep. He knew he had to if he wanted to get anything done in practice in a few hours. Yuuri groaned and pulled his comforter over his head, willing sleep to take him soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves! Thank you for all of the great feedback on the last chapter! So many great questions and comments - you all keep me so excited to keep writing this fic!! I love reading all of your reactions and everything you guys say is so great!!

**_December 2011_**

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri inhaled sharply, startled by the sudden and unexpected weight of Celestino’s hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked, his thick brows joining above his nose.

Yuuri blinked a few times, until the red and white of his skate guards came back into focus. “I was up late last night studying. I’m sorry that it…that I wasn’t as good in practice today.”

Celestino made a noise of disagreement in the back of his throat. “How did the exam go?”

Yuuri shrugged. “I think it went fine. It was kind of weird just taking it in her office by myself. I didn’t really like her…watching me.”

His coach’s rich laughter hummed around them. “Well it was good of her to let you take it early at least.”

Yuuri whole heartedly agreed. He thanked all of his professors profusely for allowing him to complete his finals a full two weeks early. He could not imagine flying back to Japan, fresh off his first semester of finals, with less than 30 hours to spare before the Japan Nationals short programs. Now he would have nearly three full weeks back at home to prepare.

“Join me in my office when you’re done here. I want to go over our training schedule again.”

Yuuri agreed and went back to gathering up his remaining gear. He heard the locker room door close behind Celestino and sighed. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to sprawl out on the bench, or even the floor, to catch a quick nap. Any length of time would do at this point. 

The end of his first semester was turning out to be no joke. Yuuri realized two weeks ago that his final exams, though he had been granted permission to take all four of them early, would obviously include material that would be covered in regular class sessions _after_ he took the exam. 

After recovering from the mild panic attack this realization caused, he got to work and plotted out a strenuous study schedule to learn the new material on his own outside of class, as well as do an overall review for the exams. 

These study sessions had to be worked around his rehearsal and performance schedule for _Chicago_ at the student theater, which just wrapped up two nights ago after a total of ten performances.

And of course there was skating. And conditioning. And his dance elective, which thankfully did not have a final this time around, just a reflective paper due before the end of finals week. That would be an easy task to finish in the comfort on his own home. Perhaps Vicchan would sit on his lap, like he always used to.

Needless to say, Yuuri was feeling quite exhausted and was deeply longing for the relaxing caress of the hot springs and the familiarity of home.

_Three more days._

He seriously needed to consider what he was going to do with his schedule next year, when his skating schedule would be more demanding. But, that was a discussion for another day. Yuuri finally willed himself up off of the bench.

His coach was hunched over his computer when Yuuri entered the cramped office. He dropped his bag to the floor and collapsed into the padded chair. Yuuri allowed himself to close his eyes for a few seconds before he gathered the last of his strength to straighten his spine.

After being sure he had his pupil’s attention, Celestino made a few clicks with his mouse and rotated the monitor so Yuuri could see. The screen was not filled with the usual practice timetable Yuuri had been expecting. Instead, there was a young man dancing across a small segment of a fairly empty, yet obviously public, rink. 

Yuuri leaned forward in his seat to watch more closely. There was no music to accompany the performance, but the expressions and unique way he moved his body were enough to hold both Yuuri’s and Celestino’s attention. 

The boy struck a final pose, and bowed before skating over to the camera. Yuuri watched as he picked it up and held it out and slightly angled down at his face before he started talking enthusiastically. He offered a peace sign to the camera before the video ended. 

“Thai?” Yuuri asked, his ears trying to place the language. 

Celestino hummed. “His name's Phichit. He has had some formal ice training in the past before his coach retired. Apparently there was no one else around to take his place, so the kid has been submitting his practices to YouTube for open comments and critiques. Skating isn’t that big in Thailand at the moment.”

“Oh,” was all Yuuri could manage. He wondered if he would be able to keep on skating if he suddenly found himself without a coach. He didn’t just appreciate his coaches for the tips and techniques, but for their support (and praise, though he would never admit it out loud) as well. 

He certainly wouldn’t be able to post videos to YouTube soliciting the opinions of strangers - that much he knew for sure. Somewhere in his rational mind, Yuuri knew that people must comment on his recorded performance videos uploaded to YouTube and other platforms by NHK, NBCsports, et cetera, but he would never ever go looking at them. Victor once told him that it was a very bad idea to let others tell you what they felt about the skating you were proud of.

“What do you think?” Celestino asked, suddenly.

“Wh-what?”

“Of his skating,” Celestino rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” Yuuri replied dumbly. “Umm…” (Why was Celestino asking him?) “He moves smoothly - you can tell he’s had some sort of classical dance training as well.”

“Mmm I thought so. What else? What about his style?”

Yuuri paused, trying to gather the right words in his mind. “Well…it’s…I dunno. He’s got a certain flair that I can’t really describe I guess,” he rambled. “It’s good though.”

Celestino nodded, as if he approved of Yuuri’s assessment. “He has other videos posted of all of his jumps. He can cleanly land all of his doubles and most of his triples - including the salchow,” Celestino joked. “He seems to have a good foundation to work with and seems incredibly dedicated.”

Yuuri was quick to agree again. 

“It’s still my plan to bring all of my skaters - or at least the ones willing to uproot themselves from home - here to Detroit. I’m getting too old to keep up this ridiculous traveling coach schedule,” Celestino started to explain as he shifted the monitor back away from Yuuri. “I’m also looking to bring on another skater or two, and I think that this Phichit might be a good fit for our rink. I wanted to get your opinion first, and it seems like I was right.”

Yuuri gave his coach what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Yuuri knew that Celestino did have other pupils and he was okay with this - many of them were very good and ranked well in ISU competitions. However, he had gotten used to having the rink here in Detroit to himself during practice. He had never trained with more than two other rink mates at a time. 

“Don’t worry, Yuuri,” Celestino started, as if he could sense Yuuri’s unease. “Your scholarship deal guarantees a certain amount of one-on-one private ice time every week. You can tell me what you’d prefer to work on then versus in the general practice sessions.”

“O-okay. That sounds…fair.”

“Good, that settles it then. You are still going to the Grand Prix Final, right?”

Yuuri nodded. “Perfect. Since I already gave you those few days off, I’m going to use that time to go scout this Thai skater in person. I’ll join you a few days after the Final, and we’ll iron out those last few program kinks at Ice Castle with Minako’s help.”

Yuuri nodded. Words were much too difficult to form at the moment. 

“Now go and get some sleep. And don’t,” Celestino emphasized with bulging eyes, “forget. your. skates.”

Yuuri laughed. No matter how fatigued he was, he would never ever forget something that was essentially an extension of his own body and soul. But he might (and did) forget one of the gloves for his free skate costume. Thank goodness he had a suite mate that was very easily convinced to visit the post office after the promise of Yuuri returning with several interesting flavors of Kit Kats.

**_December 10, 2011 - Grand Prix Final, Fukuoka Japan, Men’s Singles Free Skate_**

The rink erupted into cheers around Yuuri as the final scores were displayed. He looked over at Mrs. Nikiforov and saw his feelings mirrored on her face. 

This was the worst thing that could have happened.

She squeezed his hand one final time. “I know, dear,” she whispered to him, recovering gracefully to a bright smile. “But they know where we’re sitting and I’m sure at least one of those lenses is focused on us right now.”

Mr. Nikiforov swept his wife into a huge hug and reached over to shake hands with Yuuri. A strong arm pulled him closer, causing Victor’s mother to lean back in her seat. “You’ll be around?” Mr. Nikiforov asked, his accent thicker than his wife’s.

The question was vague, but Yuuri knew what he meant. “I won’t leave his side,” he promised.

xXx

Victor and Yuuri walked in silence the entire way from the restaurant to the hotel. Dinner had been fairly uneventful - it had been nice to meet the other Grand Prix participants. They accepted Yuuri so easily that he almost forgot that they would soon be his competitors. They all treated Victor to a celebratory round of drinks, which made him surprisingly obnoxious and needy. But now, Victor was riding the last of his tipsy buzz.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me too, Yuuri?” Victor asked as he hung his coat in the closet of his hotel suite. “Everyone else at dinner said it was my best performance all season. You didn’t even raise your glass for the toast.”

 _‘The toast that you started. For yourself,’_ Yuuri thought spitefully while removing his shoes. He immediately felt guilty for the thought. It wasn’t really fair, he realized.

He chose to remain silent as he removed his own jacket and shoes. Clearly his thoughts could not be trusted enough to become living words.

Victor had been fishing for his praise all evening, but Yuuri wasn’t about to fall for it. He was not satisfied with Victor’s performances, and he was honestly surprised that Victor himself was. 

Or that he was pretending to be, at least.

“I thought you’d be happy for me,” Victor sighed, interpreting Yuuri’s silence (correctly) as a sign of disapproval. 

Victor tossed the gold medal onto the table where it landed with a sharp thud. Yuuri had never seen him treat a medal like that before. Yuuri would bet that even a participation medal from his novice days would have been treated with the utmost respect by Victor. 

In that instant, he knew that the last thing Victor needed was a false complement. 

Victor was not happy. Whether realizing it or not, he was asking Yuuri if it was okay to settle for this - if it was okay to settle for mechanical, technical performances with no passion, choreographed by someone who knew nothing about him. If it was okay to settle for something less than his dream. 

No, this was not okay. And Yuuri would not allow it, especially after Victor had spoken so passionately about how he wanted to produce and choreograph his own programs just this summer.

“Happy that you got a gold medal?” Yuuri challenged, arms crossed across his chest.

Victor’s eyes flashed something dangerous. “I skated that program to death today!”

Yuuri groaned in frustration. Victor certainly had looked dead after that program, during most of it actually, but Yuuri bit his tongue.

“I don’t see the problem - I’m fighting for my place. Which is a hell of a lot better than a certain other skater I know,” Victor spit back.

Pain flared in Yuuri’s chest. No, Victor was not allowed to dig into his decision to scale back his competitions this year. This discussion was not about Yuuri’s career. It was about Victor and how he needed to stand up for himself. “See - you’re like a different skater this season, a different person.”

“Yeah, well people change.” 

“The Victor Nikiforov I know would never, EVER, say that to me!”

Victor’s eyes fell and his shoulders slumped forward. The muscles in his neck visibly tensed and his adam’s apple bobbed a few times. “I - I didn’t mean…I’m sorry, Yuuri.”

“I know,” he sighed, though the wound wasn’t healed. 

He had secretly been wondering if Victor looked down on him for taking an ‘easy’ year. And, well, he supposed he had his answer now. Victor quickly denied it, but the initial statement flowed so easily from his tongue. Yuuri shook his head and forcefully pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.

He laid down across the bed and felt it dip lightly as Victor sat on the edge. Yuuri could barely see his face, but the small shudders of his shoulders told him what he needed to know. Victor covered his face with his hands as he drew in a few deep and shaky breaths. 

Yuuri felt his own throat clench at the sight of his friend’s pain. This wasn’t Victor’s fault, he had to remember, which made it all the more difficult for him to figure out how to help. What could he say to Victor now to inspire him? And, even if he could find the words, would they really matter?

“I haven’t told anyone yet, but I think Yakov suspects,” Victor said in a hoarse voice. “I - this is my last season. I’m done.”

Yuuri’s guts twisted violently. “What?” his throat throbbed around the word.

“I can’t do this any more. I can’t skate like _this_ anymore.”

Yuuri pressed the heels of his palms firmly against his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. His brain was spinning. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry and kick his feet. Now, at least, those off-handed comments and questions about what Yuuri’s post-career plans were had some context. 

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? How was he supposed to fix this?

Tears were starting to burn, fighting to be released from his eyes. Yuuri knew that giving into them wouldn’t help anything, and he willed them back. His heart was pounding in his throat, trying to push against his vocal chords to release a string of desperate pleas. 

_‘Don’t give up’_ it screamed. _‘Please, anything but this.’_

Victor waited in silence, breaths coming a bit more quickly now. 

“Ten - eleven - years ago,” Yuuri started, pushing past the dull throbbing and clenching of his throat, “I was sitting in a dark rink, surrounded by the excited hum of the residents of St. Petersburg. I didn’t understand what the excitement was about - I mean, yeah I was excited to see you, and watch whatever it was that you were going to do - “

“Yuuri,” Victor sighed.

“Let me finish,” Yuuri scolded lightly. “I had seen some clips of figure skating matches before, all jumps and falls…” he trailed off for a moment. “But watching you skate that day…Victor, it was like nothing I had ever seen before in my life. The way you moved, the way you danced across the ice…” Yuuri clenched his fists by his side, the images blazed into his memory. The pressure was building again behind his eyes.

“I started skating because of the way _you_ skated. Every single program you have put together has been amazing. Beautiful. Your programs always mean something, beyond just technical elements, though I know that those are there, too.” 

Yuuri paused to swallow back a few painful sobs of his own. Tears were trickling out of his right eye now, burning out the corners and down into his hair. “Victor,” he said, unable to conceal the desperation in his voice, “you have no idea how much you and your skating mean to me, how much you’ve inspired me as a skater.”

Victor had moved further up the bed to sit next to him at some point during his confession, his weight heavy and solid against Yuuri’s thigh.

“I’m glad that you won and skated those programs the best you have all season - I know this season has been tough for you. But can you understand, even a little bit, why I’m so mad?”

“I know that you’ve been fighting this season, Victor, I know you have. But, you’ve been using the wrong weapons. Instead of forcing yourself into someone else’s design, you should have been forcing them to see _you_. You can’t…retire…please, not like this.” 

Yuuri twitched as something cold brushed against his closed fist. He unclenched his fingers and allowed Victor to lace their fingers together. He drew them up to his chest and covered both of their hands with his free one. Why were Victor’s hands so cold?

He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, as he brought his mind back on task. _Time for the final push._

“There has to be something we can do. I’ll help, if I can. Just please…please remember why you love skating. Remember why other people love your skating,” Yuuri paused. “Do you…do you honestly want to retire?”

The bed shifted as Victor laid himself out next to Yuuri, keeping their hands joined. Yuuri turned his head and met Victor’s eyes. They were shining with wetness and starting to look puffy and irritated. It reminded him of how Victor looked the very first time they had met. 

Victor shook his head. “No. But I can’t…”

“So _do_ something about it.”

“It’s not that simple. I told you…my rink mates -”

“The Skating Federation has to realize sooner or later that this power play will never work,” Yuuri fought.

“But it did though, didn’t it?” Victor said sadly. “They got their gold medal.”

Yuuri watched Victor’s eyes flick over to the table. They widened, as if suddenly horrified at what they were seeing. 

“But did it really work?” Yuuri quickly pressed on before Victor could saddle himself with more guilt. “You’re the only one from Russia that made it here, and you only won with _that_ program because of how talented you are. And now you want to retire. And they'll try again next year with new skaters and it will all fail.”

Victor let out a sigh as he pulled at his hair with his free hand. He knew Yuuri was right.

“What is it that you always told me about short cuts and gold medals?” Yuuri probed.

“Show me the skating you like best - that’s the only shortcut to a gold medal that I know,” Victor whispered, his voice straining through a new wave of tears. 

“Then show them that their short cut is _wrong_. If the federation bans you because of it…well…then you can come and represent America or Japan, or something. You’re so, _so_ special, Victor. Please…don’t retire.” 

Yuuri allowed himself to be rolled into Victor’s chest, into a tight embrace. The exposed skin of Victor’s chest was hot under his cheek. Victor buried his face in Yuuri’s hair as he choked out a sob. 

Yuuri sighed as he pressed his nose into Victor’s collarbone. He knew that Victor must be able to feel the hot tears leaking from his eyes, just as he could feel Victor’s collecting in his hair. With anyone else, Yuuri would have been embarrassed. But not here, not now, and not with Victor. 

Yuuri relaxed into his embrace for a while, until Victor’s breathing evened out. He hoped that, at least for now, Victor was no longer convinced that retirement was his best option. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“I should probably go,” Yuuri said, recognizing the inevitability of sleep. 

Victor only pulled him closer to his chest. “Please, just stay,” he whispered against Yuuri’s hair. 

Yuuri let go of his held breath in a slow stream through his nose. This was definitely not a good idea. But, he realized, there was no place he’d rather be. Victor needed him, and the implications of that made his heart swell.

“Okay, but can we lay down properly? My legs are dangling and cramping.”

Victor nodded and rolled off of the bed to his feet. He casually pulled off his shirt and warm up pants, as if sliding into bed next to Yuuri was normal. 

“Do you mind?” he asked, perhaps noticing the flush in Yuuri’s cheeks. “I can put them back on,” he said, as pink started to color his face as well.

Yuuri shook his head and stood. “I’ll be back. These pants aren’t incredibly comfortable for sleeping.” 

“There’s a pair of grey pants and a shirt in my suitcase. Please…”

Conceding easily, Yuuri found them easily and turned his back to Victor as he changed. Everything was slightly too big and smelled of lavender. Yuuri smiled as he smoothed the shirt over his stomach. For someone who slept practically naked, Victor invested in some nice quality lounge wear. 

He pulled a short curly poodle hair off of the pants. His heart swelled, thinking about his own Vicchan. He really needed to make it home more often. He missed the ever comforting presence of his dog. 

Victor was wrapped up in the fluffy comforter gazing at the ceiling when Yuuri turned to crawl back into the bed. Yuuri was loathe to leave any amount of space between them, but Victor did have a king size bed, and there was no reason for them to stay curled up in each other. The moment for comforting embraces was over. So, he slipped under the covers on the opposite side of the bed and placed his glasses on the nightstand. 

Victor flicked the lights off and Yuuri willed sleep to take him. He was finally starting to drift off (wondering how expensive it would be to move Vicchan to Detroit permanently…wondering whether it would be worth putting Vicchan through that much physical and emotional distress) when the bed shifted and a heavy weight fell onto his shoulder, another slid across his chest. 

“Okay?” Victor asked sleepily.

Yuuri nodded in dazed surprise. “Y-yeah.” 

His arms automatically curled up and around Victor. He lazily traced up Victor’s spine with one of his fingers, eliciting a strange noise from Victor’s throat. Yuuri stilled that hand, stunned by his own boldness, but allowed the other to finger the fine hairs at the nape of Victor’s neck, earning him a soft sigh. 

Victor pulled his face closer into Yuuri’s neck. He felt Victor’s hot exhale across his chest, and watched the rise and fall of his ribcage, counting the inhales and exhales like sheep until sleep finally took him.

**_December 11th, 2011_**

The wheels of his suitcase clacked steadily behind him as he made his way up the pathway to the back of the onsen. Yuuri pulled the door open and was immediately greeted by the quick patter of feet drawing closer down the hallway of the otherwise still back-half of the resort. 

Yuuri felt his chest tighten as he rushed to take off his shoes. Vicchan jumped twice in the doorway before bounding up onto Yuuri’s lap, yipping happily. Yuuri smiled down at the chocolate brown eyes of his beloved poodle. 

“Hey Vichhan!” Yuuri whispered, scratching his fingers in all of Vicchan’s favorite spots. 

He ruffled his dog’s ears and bent to kiss the top of his head. He hadn’t struggled much with being homesick after moving to America, not really anyway. But when he did find himself unable to sleep at night, with his face burrowed into anything that might still smell familiar, it was Vicchan’s face in his mind.

He pulled Vicchan into one last tight embrace before setting him back on the ground. The poodle happily followed Yuuri back to his bedroom and immediately jumped up onto his bed. There was a poodle sized indent near his pillow right where Vicchan used to lay at night with Yuuri, curled tightly under his chin. 

After unpacking some of his things - he would be at home a bit too long to justify living out of his suitcase - Yuuri sprawled out onto his childhood bed, intending to take a decent nap before his session with Minako later that afternoon. Vicchan curled up into Yuuri’s chest and licked his face lovingly before both of their breaths leveled out into long deep inhales, and longer, deeper exhales.

**_December 12, 2011_**

“Yuuri!” Yuuko hissed in his ear. “There he is! Victor Nikiforov is standing right there!”

Yuuri whined and tried to rip his elbow from Yuuko’s tight grip. Why exactly had he told Yuuko that Victor was coming to Hasetsu for the day? He really couldn’t remember why…

“Yuuri, his hair is so gorgeous - I can’t believe he let you cut it! What did it feel like? Did you keep some of it?” she asked under her breath, her eyes growing steadily wider and more glassy.

Victor looked up from his phone and waved cheerfully at them as they approached. “Yuuri!”

“This is my friend Yuuko. She used to be my rink mate when I first started skating.”

Yuuko squeaked as Victor kissed the back of her outstretched hand. _Flatterer,_ Yuuri thought with a mental eye roll.

“Tell me, Yuuko, what do you know about a poster of me hanging in Yuuri’s old locker?”

Yuuko cracked a huge smile. “Want to see it?”

“Yes, please,” Victor replied before Yuuri could have any say in the matter. Victor held out his arm for Yuuko to take as they walked to the car, leaving Yuuri behind, and a little (tiny) bit jealous. 

Despite her status as a major fangirl, Yuuko easily warmed up to Victor’s presence, much to Yuuri’s relief. 

“Do you still skate?” Victor asked during their drive over to Ice Castle. 

“Not so often now,” she placed her hands on her midsection, then threw a dangerous smile at Yuuri. “The last time was actually the day before Yuuri moved to Detroit. We skated one of your junior programs.”

Yuuri groaned, but couldn’t stop himself from glancing back in the mirror to see Victor’s reaction. His eyes were gleaming, his smile warm and soft. “Really?” 

And that was how the trio ended up skating the free program from Victor’s junior debut - together (though Yuuko skipped the spins and jumps) - at Ice Castle. Yuuko would thank him years later, during a particularly rough time with the triplets, for not fighting against it. She would claim that it was one of the best, most inspiring, days of her life. 

xXx

“Bye Yuuko!” Victor called as she pulled up next to them.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Victor! I’ll be sure to text you that story I was telling you about earlier,” Yuuko winked.

Yuuri rolled his eyes as he reached down to hug his friend through the open car window. “I’ll see you on Friday,” he said. 

“Hai!” 

Victor and Yuuri waved as Yuuko drove away. Yuuri turned around to face Victor. He finally had him all to himself. As if realizing the same thing, Victor stepped closer and pulled Yuuri into a tight hug. “Hey,” he laughed. 

Yuuri squeezed him tightly, relieved that Victor seemed to be in good spirits. He was determined to keep it that way. 

“So this is where you grew up?” Victor asked, looking around. 

Yuuri nodded. “I’ll show you around, if you want.”

Victor nodded and extended the handle of his suitcase. “First we should go drop your stuff off at home,” Yuuri bit back a smile as they headed down the road to the onsen. “And there’s someone else who’s been very excited to see you.”

Yuuri lead them around to the back of the onsen, through the door leading to their living quarters. It was quiet when they entered and removed their shoes. His family would still be in the main part of the resort tending to customers. Victor would get properly introduced to them later, he promised. 

Yuuri lead Victor down the long hallway. “This is the room we set up for you,” he said, slowly pushing the door open. “Sorry it’s not much. We don’t get many personal guests-“

“It’s great, Yuuri!” Victor assured him. “But which one’s yours?”

“Just across the hall-“

Victor had his door open before Yuuri could say anything to protest. Vicchan jumped up from his nap immediately as the lights were turned on. 

“So cute!” Victor chirped.

He crossed the room in a few strides and bent down down to pluck Vicchan off of Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri would have been much more flustered for having Victor in his bedroom if not for the incredible scene unfolding before him. He beamed. “This is Vicchan.”

“Yuuri, take our picture!” Victor demanded, fishing the phone out of his pocket.

It took Yuuri a few moments to identify the basic camera app - Victor had a plethora of photography related apps. He took a few in quick succession as Vicchan thoroughly explored Victor’s face and exposed neck. 

“I’ll be right back,” Yuuri announced, placing Victor’s phone down on the edge of his desk. “Oh, the bathroom is just down this hall on the left when you need it.”

Yuuri let out a breathy laugh as he pressed the lock on the bathroom door. How many times had he dreamed of this happening as a child? Of Victor announcing that he was coincidentally going to be in Japan for a few weeks over the summer for some event or another, it didn’t really matter what, and that he wanted to stay at Yuuri’s. It had been so close to becoming a reality one summer, and he had been so excited. But of course, that didn’t pan out. 

Yuuri wondered if he still had the list of activities he had carefully planned for them to do that summer. Skating at Ice Castle was definitely on it. Check. He also remembered the beach and his favorite bakery at the time, down the street from Minako’s studio. And the festival of course, which wouldn’t be an option this time around. Maybe another time, he thought as he dried his hands. 

When Yuuri returned, Victor was still hugging Vicchan to his chest, but he had moved to start examining Yuuri’s things. “My Yuuri is so talented,” he cooed to Vicchan as they examined his collection of colorful ribbons from ballet and skating. He picked up a photo of Yuuri at his last dance recital with Minako’s studio, just last year. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

Yuuri felt his ears burn and he coughed lightly to make Victor aware of his presence. “I expected to see more posters of me,” he chastised with a sweet smile.

“Ahh well, some of them got, erm, relocated to Detroit.”

“You’re favorites?” Victor said, perking up even more. “Which ones?”

“We should really get going. I have some things to show you,” Yuuri said, his hand coming to the back of his head. 

Victor let him off the hook for now. “Can Vicchan come?”

Yuuri indulged Victor during their outing by taking several (hundred) pictures of him with Vicchan, him with Yuuri, or the three of them together in front of every landmark they visited. They spent the longest time at the beach. Victor said it reminded him of St. Petersburg, his home. Yuuri wasn’t sure why, but this comment made him deeply happy.

Vicchan was low on energy after the beach and Victor carried him inside of his jacket on their walk home. “He’s so tiny!” he whined in awe. “I haven't been able to do this with Makkachin since she was a puppy. I miss it.”

Yuuri let a moan of pure pleasure slip through his lips when they entered Yu-topia. His mother had made katsudon. He was so happy that he thought he might cry if it weren’t for the fact that all of his excess fluids were collecting in his mouth.

“What is that?” Victor asked, inhaling deeply.

“Heaven.”

Yuuri barely remembered to introduce Victor to his parents and sister when they sat down at the table - it had been too long since his last bite of his mother’s katsudon. 

“Do you watch soccer?” Yuuri’s dad asked Victor from across the table. 

Mari and Yuuri exchanged a knowing look as Victor finished his swallowing his last bite of rice. “Mmm not really.”

His father’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Well what about sake? Do you like sake?”

Victor leaned across the table. “I. love. sake,” he replied in very serious tone.

“Great!” Yuuri’s father stood up and stretched. “I’ll be back.”

Victor smiled and planted his now free hand on the floor behind Yuuri so he could lean back from the table. “That was truly amazing, Mrs. Katsuki.”

Yuuri’s mother shrugged her shoulders up to her ears, beaming in delight. “Would you like some more?” she asked.

Victor shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly.”

Hiroko laughed. “Well I’ll take your plate then. Yours too, Yuuri.”

“Oh, I can clean up after myself. You’ve done enough already, Mrs. Katsuki,” Victor protested, moving to stand.

More laughter. “Please, call me Hiroko. Or mom!”

Yuuri blushed. “Mom!”

“Oh Yuuri, you read me so many of Vicchan’s letters it’s like he grew up here anyway,” she waved dismissively, grabbing their plates with her other hand.

“Thanks, mom!” 

“Victor!” Yuuri whined, covering his face with his palms.

Victor laughed and pulled Yuuri close to his side. His face grew impossibly hotter when he felt the press of Victor’s lips to the crown of his head. Yuuri was finally coaxed to relax by Victor’s hands running up and down the length of his arm.

His father appeared shortly after his mother disappeared, holding a bottle and a half of what Yuuri recognized as his favorite pearl sake. “Let me grab some fresh glasses - don’t start without me, Victor,” his father teased.

Mari rolled her eyes. “I’m going out back for a bit,” she announced. “Let me know when it’s safe, or if anyone needs assistance walking later, Yuuri.”

Yuuri offered her a weak smile. His father had a reputation for being a bit liberal with his sake when company was around. 

Victor spun one of the bottles so the label was facing them. “Oh, this is really nice sake,” he breathed. 

“Mmmm,” Yuuri hummed, leaning more heavily onto Victor’s shoulder in his post-katsudon coma. “It’s Minako’s favorite too. Probably why he’s pulled out the new bottle.”

“Oh, is Minako-sensei coming?”

Yuuri nodded. “Her last class ended a bit ago and she wanted to see you. She should be here any minute actually,” he said after glancing at the clock on the wall.

His father returned and set down several glasses on the table. He poured a generous amount into three of them. Yuuri somewhat reluctantly leaned out of Victor’s embrace to grab the one meant for him. They sipped in silence for a minute, aside from the content sighs coming from his father after every sip.

Minako arrived with her usual level of flair and a glass was immediately shoved into her waiting hand. She sat on the other side of Victor and his mother took her spot across the table again. Yuuri took another long sip of sake, enjoying the smooth taste and after burn of the alcohol. He couldn’t help but smile whenever Victor said the word ‘mom’ to address his mother. 

Just as he was reaching the bottom of his glass, Vicchan came and pawed at his thigh. He whined softly, as if not wanting to interrupt a moment. “I’ll be back,” Yuuri quietly told Victor.

He set his glass down on the table and followed Vicchan to the back door. It took him only a few seconds to slip on the harness before he was stepping out into the cool night air. Vicchan circled around the yard several times, looking for a good place to do his business. All the while, Yuuri couldn’t stop smiling at how stupidly perfect his life was in that moment.

“So what’s going on there?”

Yuuri jumped, nearly toppling into the trash bin next to him. “Mari! Stop…lurking!”

He heard his sister laugh as she ground her spent cigarette into the dirt. “So?”

“So _what_?”

“What’s going on between you and Victor?”

Yuuri felt his face flush in the cool night breeze. “N-nothing. Really, it’s nothing.”

Mari cocked her head at him. “But you want there to be?” she pressed.

“Mari it’s not…it’s complicated with Victor, right now,” Yuuri sighed, after checking that the door to the back hallway was still closed.

“You want to talk about it?” she offered.

Yuuri surprised himself by laughing. “Where is this coming from?”

Mari shrugged. “Dunno - you were never really interested in anyone growing up. Other than Victor obviously.” 

Yuuri scowled. 

“Let me be your big sister? Isn’t it my right to ask you these things and intervene?”

Yuuri’s face softened. “I…”

Victor’s laughter rang out from inside, followed by a few kind words from his mother. Yuuri’s eyes were automatically drawn to the sound. His smile deepened as he heard Victor attempt to thank his parents again for dinner and their hospitality - in Japanese. His accent was ridiculous.

“Well, whatever it is - or isn’t!” Mari corrected after Yuuri’s attention flicked back to her. “I’m glad you have someone like Victor in your life. I know how important he’s been to you, and I can tell that he really cares about you.”

“Mari!” Yuuri squeaked. 

Vicchan was pawing at the door to get back inside, presumably to curl up on Victor’s lap for the night. 

“I just wanted to let you know that we - mom, dad, Minako and I - would be okay with it if, you know, you and Victor _were_.”

Yuuri’s heart pulsed in his chest. He knew what Mari said was true, he had always known it. But that did not stop the wave of emotion that flooded his body upon hearing her vocalize the sentiment. “Thanks, nee-chan,” he smiled.

Mari waved her hand at him. “Go back inside, I’ll be back after one more,” she said.

Vicchan bounded towards the common area immediately after Yuuri removed his lead. _Traitor dog,_ he thought fondly. He heard his parent’s laughs of surprise as the poodle announced his intent to re-join the party. 

He heard light footsteps coming down the hallway. “Hey,” Victor said softly from the doorway to the backroom.

Yuuri could barely make his form out in the moonlight. “Hey, sorry. Vicchan was being very particular about where he wanted to _go_ and then Mari scared me…”

Victor’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him into a tight hug. “Your family is really great, Yuuri,” Victor mumbled against the back of his head.

“They are, aren’t they?” he smiled.

It would be so easy from this position, Yuuri thought to himself, so very easy to just turn around and kiss Victor. Their casual touches had become more frequent as the day progressed, driving him crazy. He had never wanted anything this much in his entire existence…but Yuuri hesitated. 

“We should probably head back,” Yuuri decided, pulling himself out of Victor’s grasp. “Vicchan is probably missing you.”

Victor laughed. “No complaining - Makka abandons me just as quickly whenever you’re around.”

As it turned out, Vicchan ended up sitting between Yuuri’s legs, who ended up sitting between Victor’s legs.

**_December 13th, 2011_**

The train was sitting at the station when they arrived, the conductor standing off to the side enjoying a hot tea before the next leg of the trip. Their pace slowed to a shuffle, then to a stop on the platform. Yuuri had not expected to feel so nervous to part ways from Victor.

Their day together had passed so quickly. Thought it had been full of smiles and laughter (and a bit too much sake), Yuuri was still worried about how Victor would fare being alone in his head on the train and the long flight back to St. Petersburg. Had he done a good enough job of convincing Victor to keep fighting?

Yuuri automatically moved into the space between Victor’s arms when they opened up for him, wrapping his own tightly around Victor’s back. He allowed his head to rest on Victor’s shoulder for a moment, enjoying the way Victor’s hand automatically cradled the back of his neck and the tickle of Victor’s breath as his nose pressed into the top of his head. 

_‘Victor, what’s happening here?’_ The question rose to his throat again, as it had been so often over the past few days, but it never seemed like the right time to ask. It wouldn’t have been fair to burden Victor with selfish questions at a time like this. 

_’Next time,’ he told himself. ‘Next time I see you, I’ll ask you what this feeling is inside my chest and if you feel it too.’_

“I’m so torn. I - I don’t know what to do,” Victor said as they slowly separated. His eyes were rippling with desperation it seemed.

Yuuri closed his eyes and congratulated his tongue for holding back his question again. He had been right - Victor was too consumed by the fate of his career to worry about the longing in Yuuri’s heart. And, Yuuri decided, that was okay. It was how it should be. 

He made sure to smile supportively when he opened his eyes again. “I understand. It’s a big decision and um…I mean, I know what answer I’m hoping I’ll hear when you decide, but this is about more than what I want.”

Victor’s eyes widened slightly. “You—you’ve been thinking about it?” he asked.

A light laugh escaped Yuuri’s chest. “Yes - um, a lot actually. How could I not?”

This brought a small smile to Victor’s eyes. He squeezed his fingers around Yuuri’s biceps. “Yuuri, I - I thought I was the only one who -“

A muffled voice sounded over head, drawing both of their attention away. Yuuri watched as the conductor flicked his empty paper cup into the recycle. Their time was running out, and Victor still apparently did not realize that he was not the only one thinking about his career. It pained Yuuri to think that Victor still didn’t realize how much Yuuri, and countless others, loved to watch him skate - were inspired by him - and would be just as preoccupied with Victor’s decision as he was.

“What did they say?” Victor asked, pointing up. 

“Boarding call - the train will be leaving in two minutes,” Yuuri translated. 

“I should probably go then,” Victor sighed. 

Yuuri nodded, though it was the last thing he wanted. Victor pulled him into another tight hug. “I’m sorry for making you wait on me. I - I promise I’ll figure it out soon,” Victor whispered. 

“I’ll still be here with you, no matter what you decide,” Yuuri declared. 

The next few seconds passed in a blur. Yuuri had started to pull away so that Victor could catch his train. But somewhere between that movement and Victor disappearing behind the smooth silver sliding doors, something warm and soft had been pressed against Yuuri’s lips. 

The only evidence that it hadn’t been Yuuri’s imagination was the smooth slip of Victor’s sweet vanilla lip balm, lingering on his lips as the train pulled away from the station.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you all so wonderful?!?!

**_December 18th, 2011_ **

The kiss had been so wonderfully unexpected that Yuuri still, even almost a week later, had to convince himself at times that it had been real. His desire to kiss Victor had been steadily increasing over the past few months, and to have it happen so suddenly and end so quickly…Yuuri felt like his lungs had been ripped from his body just before a deep inhale.

Because now he knew what Victor’s lips felt like, knew their exact temperature. He knew that Victor’s lip balm was amazingly hydrating and tasted exactly as it smelled. Yuuri knew that he absolutely wanted it to happen again. 

But it had been a week of texting, phone calls, and video chats without a single mention of the kiss. No comment form Victor that could even remotely be related. So, Yuuri found himself starting to doubt.

He saw Celestino looking at him in concern at the length of his water break. Yuuri sighed and pushed himself back onto the ice to do another run of his short program.

Yuuri found himself wondering if it had all been a mistake. That maybe Victor had been moving in to kiss his cheek, and Yuuri had moved his face ever so slightly forcing their lips to meet. It wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility, Victor had kissed other places on his face before while saying goodbye. 

He had agonized about this theory for hours while laying awake in bed one night. Of course Victor wouldn’t have brought it up - it had been a mistake. Yet, even during the lowest point of this thought spiral, Yuuri couldn’t help but remember the look in Victor’s eyes. They had been warm in surprise, shimmering with so many different things. It was not the look you gave to someone before casually kissing them on their cheek. 

Also, no matter how much the thought of kissing Victor consumed him, Yuuri knew that he would never subconsciously move into a kiss without being extremely sure that Victor wanted it too.

So, the kiss on the cheek theory was debunked. Which meant that Victor had _meant_ to kiss him. It had been _intentional_. 

So why hadn’t Victor said anything yet?

Yuuri marked his salchow and moved into the shorter of the two spin sequences in this program.

His brilliant mind loved to torture him with this next theory. It had been eating him alive for the past few days. The most friendly thought he had when developing this theory was that Yuuri was absolute crap at kissing, which made Victor truly disappointed. He was saving Yuuri the embarrassment by not bringing it up. This thought somehow evolved (darkly) into Victor realizing that it had been weird and never wanted to kiss Yuuri again. That maybe if he never mentioned it, they could pretend it never happened. 

Yuuri ran his hands down his sides, caressing himself through his warm-up sweats. Surprisingly, he had been able to reject these thoughts as well (eventually). Though it took him a moderate panic attack in the onsen one evening, he was usually able to push these thoughts away. 

Because he and Victor shared touches that were meant for _lovers_. Or, at least they were touches that Yuuri had always imagined he himself would share with a romantic partner. 

The way they held hands with subtle caresses. The way their hugs could only be described as intimate and lingered just a little bit too long. The way that Victor embraced him from behind and let his hands settle low on Yuuri’s waist. The way they drank in each other’s scent without hiding the fact that it brought them comfort, that they felt grounded in each other. 

Victor regretting the kiss seemed silly, now. Theory blown out of the water. 

He finished a fairly clean run of his short program and paused again to grab some water, being careful not to take as long of a break as he had last time. Yuuri had one last theory.

He skated back out to the center of the rink to start a run of his free program. This last theory was his favorite. 

Maybe, just maybe, Victor is just as nervous as Yuuri about what he is feeling. Yuuri had to remind himself that he was also guilty of not bringing up the kiss - though part of him was very stubborn in his thinking that, since Victor initiated the kissing, he should also be the one to initiate the conversation about said kissing. 

But mostly Yuuri didn’t want to bring it himself up because he was scared. These feelings that had been blossoming inside of him for Victor were lovely…and absolutely terrifying. Was it really outside the realm of possibility that Victor was feeling the same things?

This theory still held water, and not just because it was his favorite. He remembered the conversation that immediately proceeded the kiss, and how odd he thought it had been that Victor was surprised that Yuuri was thinking about his indecision about retirement. It was only yesterday that Yuuri realized that they may have been having two separate conversations. 

That maybe Victor had been replying to the question screaming in Yuuri’s heart - “What is happening here?”

Yuuri had to remind himself that Victor still hadn’t decided, that much at least he had confessed. They were both feeling scared, but perhaps they were both feeling something else as well. There was _hope_. And it was surging through his body like a wildfire.

Yuuri’s world was spinning - literally spinning. He gasped in shock and his body went rigid. He hadn’t meant to jump just then, he was only supposed to be marking them during this run through. What jump was this supposed to have been?

He didn’t have time to figure it out. He was landing on his front side, his forearm barely managed to shield his chin from smacking into the ice. 

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri tried to sit up as he heard a the furious sliding of shoes on the ice, accompanied by the occasional outburst of Italian. Celestino was grasping Yuuri’s face between his hands as he asked repeatedly if Yuuri was okay. 

Yuuri promised his coach that he hadn’t his his head, but Celestino did the standard concussion checks anyway. 

“I can stand - please, the ice is very…cold,” he finished with embarrassment. 

Celestino helped him to his feet and they hobbled over to the stands together. “We’re done on the ice for the day, Yuuri,” Celestino ordered. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but make sure you deal with it. I will not have you injuring yourself right before Nationals.”

His words were harsh and pointed, but Yuuri knew that this was how Celestino expressed himself when he was seriously concerned. Yuuri nodded along. He was very shaken by the crash and probably wouldn’t have been able to finish their session anyway. 

“We’ll do your cool down stretches here.”

Yuuri removed his skates and followed Celestino to the tiny warm-up studio off to the side of the locker rooms of Ice Castle. He grabbed a mat from the wall and Celestino helped him unfold it on the floor. 

Yuuri resigned himself to the fact that it wasn’t fair of him to decide what Victor was feeling. He could only do his best to work through his own feelings about the matter and have a proper discussion with Victor. Preferably one where they were both clear on the subject matter they were discussing.

xXx

Yuuri hesitated at the threshold of Minako’s dance studio. Celestino had specifically said that their ice training was over for the day, but had said nothing about working on choreography off of the ice. His stomach squirmed with guilt, as per usual when he was up to something even minutely ‘devious’, which was practically anything even a fraction of a millimeter off the books in Yuuri’s case. 

He chewed at his lip. The thought of going back to soak in the onsen was not particularly appealing. Yuuri needed to _do_ something, the more physically demanding the better, to finish working through all of the feelings swirling around in his head. He had so much energy when he was feeling anxious and needed a safe way to work it out if he didn’t want to end up curled up and shaking on his bed for hours. 

Yuuri lifted his head decisively and pulled open the door. 

Minako would understand, she had been working with Yuuri through these sorts of things for nearly his entire life. Celestino…was working on it. Sometimes Yuuri was surprised at how much his coach seemed to understand about him in their few short years together. But, Yuuri’s need for the ice was only second to his need for oxygen, and Celestino did not seem to fully grasp that yet.

Yuuri removed his shoes in the entry way and walked quietly down the short hallway to the main studio. Minako was alone, dancing to a familiar song playing lightly from the tiny bluetooth speaker in the front of the room. Yuuri waited there in the doorway for a few moments, watching the way she could still move about like the world class dancer she was. 

He had often wondered how old Minako really was. He knew she was older than his mother, though no one would ever guess - no offense to his mother, who still looked years younger than she probably should. Perhaps it was the dancing that kept one looking so young…

She spotted him in the mirror and waved him inside. “I wasn’t aware we had an appointment,” she said as she made her way over to her phone. The music stopped a few moments later

Yuuri offered her a half smile as he pulled the door closed behind him. “We don’t.”

Minako assessed him in silence from across the room. “Want to talk about it?”

“No, I was kind of hoping to dance?” Yuuri laughed, setting his bag down in the corner. 

He fished his well worn split soles out of one of the side pockets. He ran his fingers lovingly down the sides. Skating brought him so much joy, but there was something about ballet that would always call to him. It was what had brought he and Victor together at first. 

_Did Victor still do ballet?_ he wondered. That was something he would absolutely love to see again - Victor’s long, lean form would surely look incredible supported by a nice pair of pointe shoes…

Yuuri was met by Minako’s narrowed eyes when he turned around. “Interesting. Celestino called me about twenty minutes ago. He thought you might try to find a loophole in what he said about ice training,” she said. “So, let’s talk.”

Minako had pulled two padded mats to the center of the room. She was patting the green one next to hers, an invitation for him to join her. Yuuri sighed and walked over to join her, though he kept his shoes with him to serve as his emotional anchor.

There was no point in trying to lie to Minako about what was on his mind, and Yuuri wasn’t sure he would have even if he could. So, he drew in a deep breath. “I think I’ve worked most of it out,” he started, tracing a few of the deeper cracks in the nude toned leather.

“Tell me everything anyway,” Minako sighed.

Yuuri started with the kiss. Though she cried in delight when the words first left his mouth, Minako remained quiet as he talked through everything that had been weaving through his mind over the last week. Even when he got to his least favorite theory - the one where Victor hated it and just wanted to erase it from their memories - she held her tongue. 

Talking through all of it was turning out to be exactly what he needed. Thinking about it in his head was somehow much, much louder. One thought was quick to respond to another, and then another thought would jump in and so on until Yuuri had exhausted all of his internal voices with no clue what he was even thinking about in the first place. Without any idea of what the reality was. Then, he would have to start over, and over and over again, until he was finally able to calm his thoughts to a central focus. Talking did this all immediately for him. 

Yuuri ended with his conclusion - that he needed to wait and talk to Victor.

“Wow, that’s very…adult of you, Yuuri. I’m proud.”

Yuuri blushed. “Thanks?”

“I know his mother is one of my closest friends, but I will crush him if he ever hurts you,” she said, fiercely.

Yuuri felt his eyes widen. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What, that he’ll hurt you?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, not really.”

“What then?”

He paused. “He’s been in my life for so long, Minako. I can’t…I don’t know what my life would be without him in it. I really, really liked the kiss - “

“Yuuri, that was barely a kiss,” Minako interrupted.

He narrowed his eyes. “The _point_ is…” he inhaled deeply and hid his face in his hands. “I think that I _want_ Victor like that,” his face flushed at the way that sounded in his ears. Then again as he remembered that Minako was there and had also heard it. He moved on before either of them could respond to that point. “But, realistically, what are the chances that things really work out between us? In the long run, is the risk too big? How am I supposed to…he’s been there my whole life…I can’t just…” 

Yuuri buried his face in his hands as he struggled to come up with the right words. As he struggled to further comprehend just what Victor meant to him. It was such a big idea, with so many different feelings attached to it. It was very overwhelming.

 _Like being torn in half,_ he smiled, remembering Victor’s words.

A warm hand covered each of his knees, pressing down firmly. “Yuuri, no matter what happens, you and Victor are too big of a part of each others lives to ever completely leave each other. Maybe if the romantic part didn’t work out, maybe there would be some awkwardness…but…I don’t think there is ever a path that would mean you walking without each other.”

Yuuri bit his lip to hold back his tears. 

“So, anything else on your mind?” she asked after a minute. 

Yuuri wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his track jacket. Right, he thought, there was actually something that was somehow even bigger than what they had just discussed. “Victor said he might…retire.”

“Well that’s rather serious,” Minako sighed. 

Seconds later, she leaned back on her knees, swearing under her breath. “Up,” she commanded. 

Yuuri rose to his feet automatically. Minako circled the room quickly, closing all of the blinds. “I’m overriding Celestino, as your honorary co-coach. Let’s dance, Yuuri.”

He unzipped his jacket and tossed it on top of his skating bag. “But if you so much as yawn, we’re done,” she warned him. “What do you want to work on?”

“My free skate choreography,” Yuuri decided as he walked over to the barre. He slid on his shoes and pointed his toes with a smile.

Minako brought her hands together in two staccato claps. “From the top.”

**_December 24th, 2011 - Japan Figure Skating Championships. Men’s Singles Free Skating Event_ **

Yuuri tapped his fingers rapidly on the small screen, knowing he only had a minute or two before Celestino would come to collect him for his call time.

 **[Yuuri, 15:20]:** Are you going to watch?

 **[Victor, 15:20]:** Of course

 **[Yuuri, 15:21]:** Good  
**[Yuuri, 15:21]:** Don’t ever take your eyes off of me.

 **[Victor, 15:21]:** Wow,Yuuri. Are you always this demanding?

 **[Yuuri, 15:22]:** Only about the things I really want.

 **[Victor, 15:22]:** Tell me, Yuuri. Is there anything else that you really want?

Yuuri stuttered. Was Victor…flirting with him? He squeaked as he read through the conversation string. Oh god, _he_ had started it, he realized. (When had he learned how to flirt?) But more importantly, Victor had responded in kind. He (unwisely perhaps) kept going.

 **[Yuuri, 15:23]:** I think you know

Yuuri could hear Victor’s whine if he listened really hard as he read the response.

 **[Victor, 15:23]:** And what am I supposed to do with that, darling?

Yuuri blushed harder than he ever had in his life. He closed his eyes for a moment. No, this was not the time for flirting. He was trying to send Victor a serious message.

 **[Yuuri, 15:24]:** Just watch.

Yuuri tossed his phone back into his bag before he could be tempted to send anything more, and headed out of the locker room to find his coach. They arrived in time to see the last minute or so of Takeshi’s free skate, and all of the next skater’s.

Celestino lightly patted his back. “Alright, let’s go,” he said.

Yuuri nodded as he took one last sip of water. He shook Takeshi’s hand and took to the ice. He allowed himself one warm up lap before settling himself in the center of the rink, using the time to reflect on the conversations he had yesterday with his fellow competitors.

His music started on cue, and Yuuri raised his head, sweeping his arms around himself. This was his moment, his senior debut, he reminded himself. With so many of Japan’s seasoned skaters retiring after this season, someone needed to keep their country relevant. And, apparently, that someone was going to be Yuuri.

This was concerning and exhilarating at the same time. Yuuri wanted to be good, wanted to hear the praises of the audience as he skated for himself and for them. He wanted to make them proud. This was his new beginning.

So he skated passionately, trying his hardest to capture the attention of everyone around him. And hopefully it would capture Victor’s attention as well, because this was the beginning of their shared dream.

 _You’re not done yet, Victor,_ Yuuri thought as he propelled himself through his step sequence. _We haven’t skated on the same ice as competitors, like I promised. And you still have something you promised me. You’ve probably forgotten but…_

Yuuri smiled as he gathered some more momentum. _I’m here to remind you of that promise. Don’t anyone take the moment from you, not even me._

He threw himself into the air. Yuuri knew he wasn’t going to land this jump, in fact he never intended to. It was a reminder, a warning to Victor. _Don’t tease me._

Yuuri landed painfully, but he pulled himself right back up again. Nothing he wasn’t used to, at least. His final spin was a bit shaky and shorter than usual with so much of his reserved stamina spent on the half-baked quad flip. He wrapped his arms around himself just as the music faded out.

Celestino was the first person Yuuri saw after. The man looked like he wasn’t quite sure whether to be absolutely furious with his pupil, or if he wanted to throw Yuuri up in the air in celebration. Yuuri’s final score would probably decide that.

Yuuri flinched as he sat on the bench in the kiss and cry. He was going to have a very impressive bruise. _You better have been watching, Victor,_ he grumbled internally.

Yuuri watched in silence as his name moved up into the second slot on the leader board. He winced slightly, there were still two people left to skate, meaning he wasn’t guaranteed a spot on the podium. 

He heard Celestino sigh beside him. “What were you thinking, Yuuri?” he asked.

Yuuri shrugged the question off as they walked over to the press corner. “If you’re ready to start new quads, just tell me, okay?”

Yuuri shook his head, his confidence levels rapidly deteriorating. “N-no. I think working on the salchow is plenty for now,” he responded. Besides, he thought to himself, it’s not like he’d ever be able to land the quad flip anyway, no matter how hard he practiced. 

Celestino narrowed his eyes. “Well, whatever that was, don’t do it again. Honestly Yuuri, you could have easily won with that program. And I’m not talking about making the podium. I mean, actually won.”

Yuuri clenched his jaw. Would Victor think he had made a mistake as well? Maybe he had not thought this through enough. Actually, he hadn’t really thought this through at all. It had been pure impulse. His chest tightened and he quickly excused himself to use the bathroom before answering questions from the media. 

He walked into the last stall in the row and closed the door. After closing the lid on the toilet seat, Yuuri sat there with his palms pressed into his eyes, thinking about what an idiot he had been. He could have easily just put on a passionate skate for Victor. He could have called him after and reminded Victor with actual words why he couldn’t retire yet, remind him of their shared promises. 

But instead he had gone and done this, potentially making a mockery of his senior debut. What would the other skaters think? Yesterday they had been confident in leaving the legacy of Japan figure skating to him. And then he had gone and done this. They would smash his name into the dirt. He didn’t deserve to be here. 

Yuuri barely managed to pull himself together before the tears really started coming. He needed to save face for the interviews. Victor would be watching, he reminded himself. He made this idiotic and childish decision, the least he could do was lay in the hole he had dug himself. 

xXx

 **[Victor, 16:30]:** ヽ(￣♡￣)ノ

**_December 25th, 2011_ **

Victor answered on the third ring. “Yuuri!” Makkachin barked in the background. “Makka also says ‘hello!’”

“Happy birthday, Victor! Hello Makkachin,” Yuuri laughed. He rolled over in bed so he was laying on his side. “Vicchan is too busy entertaining guests, but I’m sure he also sends his greetings.”

“Oh right, Merry Christmas! I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?”

“No,” Yuuri sighed. His parents were probably replaying the video footage from nationals again for his aunt and uncle. “I’d much rather be here with you,” he blushed, as Victor hummed in amusement. “Well I mean here, on the phone…umm…Sorry your gift didn’t get to you on time. You’ll see why when it gets there.”

“Huh, I thought I got it yesterday.”

Yuuri huffed in disbelief. “I highly doubt that, unless it was upgraded to first class…top speed shipping or something. Like teleportation really - I just sent it three days ago.”

Victor pushed on like he hadn’t heard Yuuri. “But Yuuri, really, I’m not sure whether to be proud or irritated.”

“Wh-what?”

Victor chuckled. “The quad flip - Yuuri,” Victor whined, “that’s supposed to be my legacy.”

Yuuri smiled, his heart was pounding wildly against his mattress in hope. Could this really mean - ? He decided to test the waters. He gave a dramatic sigh. “Well, I dunno, last I heard you were going to retire. I thought that I might as well make a name for myself.”

 _Though I kind of did,_ he reminded himself. The unhinged figure skater from Japan, who basically gave up the title of National Champion of men’s figure skating for some reason that no one could understand, settling for bronze instead.

“Oh about that - Yuuri, can you promise me something?”

 _Anything._ “Sure. What is it?”

“Don’t watch the Russian broadcast,” Victor paused to laugh lightly. “Keep your eyes off of me.”

Yuuri sat up on his elbow. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing like that. I just don’t want you to see that skating again. Please, just promise that you won’t watch me.”

Yuuri let out a long breath. “Okay, I promise.”

“I promise I have a plan though. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to look again,” Victor teased. 

Yuuri smiled. It would be very difficult to not watch Victor, no matter how painful it was to watch his program this season, this much he knew for sure. He felt like he could at least offer a bit of support to Victor just by telling him that he’d be out there somewhere, watching him skate. But he could keep this promise if it was really that important to Victor. 

“Okay,” he agreed again.

“Good,” Victor said, a pinch of relief in his voice. “And in return, I promise that when you do watch again, you won’t be able to keep your eyes off of me.”

 _I already can’t,_ Yuuri thought. 

“You really did skate beautifully yesterday, my Yuuri,” Victor said softly. “No one could look away, especially not me. Chris texted me after - I think he’s a bit nervous to compete against you next season.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but felt his face heat up anyway. Why? he wanted to ask. Why would anyone be nervous to skate against me? 

Vicchan appeared in his doorway, after having nuzzled it open, yipping excitedly. 

“Vicchan!” Victor cooed.

Yuuri heard Mari calling for him in the distance. “I should go,” he sighed. “Um, happy birthday again. And your real present is coming soon. I hope.”

Victor laughed. “I’ve kept you too long. Go enjoy your day, Yuuri.”

They said their goodbyes, and Yuuri promised one last time that he would not try to find a stream of the Russian event. Or Euros.

**_December 27th, 2011 - Russian Figure Skating Championships_ **

Yuuri moved through another step sequence from a program he did a few years ago. The men’s free skating even would be starting soon, and it was harder than he thought to avoid watching Victor. He had barely made it through yesterday by volunteering to go with his mother to run errands for the onsen. He allowed himself a few peeks at the scores reported after the short program and saw enough to know that Victor was currently the leader, followed by Georgi and Alexi, which really wasn’t much of a surprise.

But today he was finding it very hard to stay occupied. After finding himself refreshing the ISU results page for the tenth time that day, he forced himself to call Yuuko to meet him at the rink. They weren’t talking much - Yuuri had mostly been skating random sequences from his and Victor’s old programs while Yuuko made comments here and there and scrolled through her phone.

“Victor’s on,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying across the rink to Yuuri’s ears.

“Thanks,” Yuuri replied, coming to a slow stop in the center of the ice.

He drew in a breath and started skating another familiar program, one that he found himself defaulting to when he was particularly nervous. He imagined Victor taking to the ice, dressed in simple black tights and a white button down dress shirt. He imagined those blue eyes filled with energy, those soft lips quirked up into a slight smile, though he knew neither would be happening during this program. Victor’s face would be decidedly blank, as it had been all season. But Yuuri longed to see it come to life again, as it had during their day together in Hasetsu. Yuuri wanted to see Victor smile on the ice, laugh like he did in St. Petersburg over the summer.

Yuuri skated to a silent song inside of his head, only half complete, but beautiful all the same. He danced with every ounce of hope and passion he had left in his body, paying close attention to everything and nothing at the same time. He raised his arms into the air, twisting them tightly above his head during the double flip, adjusting quickly to the unfamiliar change in his center of gravity. Yuuri reached forward during the step sequence, his hands brushing across an invisible cheek as he smiled, imagining he felt something warm under his finger tips. 

He eventually came to a stop in front of where Yuuko had come to stand near the edge of the rink. She offered out his water bottle as he skated over to her in a silence only broken by the comforting swishes of his skates on the ice.

“I’ve seen you skate parts of that before,” Yuuko finally said, looking at him cautiously.

Yuuri nodded, offering nothing else in response. Yuuko didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, having grown used to this side of Yuuri. “How was it?” he finally asked.

“Victor won, as expected,” she sighed. “But it was all rather boring. I never really noticed before, but all of their programs - the Russian skaters I mean - are very similar. I guess it took seeing them all back to back for me to notice, but…I dunno…”

“They were all choreographed and produced by the same person,” Yuuri stated, taking another swig form his water bottle. He tried not to let his bitterness and anger on the subject show too much. 

“Mmmm, I had wondered about that,” Yuuko sighed. “It’s…really dumb.”

Yuuri laughed despite his current mood. “Yeah, it is.”

“Like, who even thought that was a good idea. I mean, seriously.”

“Defies the whole point of artistry.” 

“He’ll be okay though, right?” Yuuko asked after a minute.

Yuuri nodded, feeling confident for the first time in a while. “Yeah, I really think he will be.”

**_March 31st, 2012 - World Championship of Figure Skating. Men’s Singles Free Skating Event._ **

**[Victor, 05:07]:** Please watch today  
**[Victor, 05:07]:** This one’s for you

Yuuri read those two short messages over and over again throughout his morning classes. Three more hours until the men’s free skating event started in Nice, France. He had already decided that the was going to skip his eleven o’clock lecture to make sure he could find a good stream. The decision made him feel guilty for a few seconds - Yuuri had never purposefully ditched out on a lecture. But, with all the notes he was currently taking during the present lecture, he probably would have been better off just skipping all of his classes. He would have learned the same amount. 

Yuuri jumped out of his seat and bolted out of the door as soon as the class was let out. He stopped by the cafeteria briefly to grab a pre-made sandwich and boxed salad to bring to his room for lunch. He picked at both as he scoured the Internet for an acceptable stream quality.

It took a while for him to find one, but he finally did. He carefully relocated to his bed, balancing the remaining half sandwich on his knee as he plugged his charger into the wall. The commentators were talking animatedly about something in French, leaving Yuuri half tempted to continue searching for an English or Japanese stream. He decided not to push his luck and lose the stream all together. At least the image was crisp and the motion blur was minimal. 

He maximized the window in time to see Victor gliding out onto the ice wearing his usual simple white button up dress shirt and black leggings. He took one warm-up lap before stilling into his opening pose. 

Yuuri pressed his hands to his cheeks, letting out a long nervous exhale as the background noise settled to near silence. But then…

Victor had the same dull, expressionless look on his face that he had worn throughout the whole season. The same music started to play and he started to skate through the same figures he had been all season. 

What the hell was going on? Why had Victor wanted him to watch this after being so adamantly against Yuuri watching him at nationals an Euros?

Yuuri felt his anxiety creeping up on him. He had been so hopeful that Victor was going to do something, anything, to announce to Yuuri that he was not going to retire. But this seemed like the opposite. Had Yuuri been misreading everything? Perhaps Victor had been so content and happy recently because he had made peace with his decision to retire? But this made absolutely no sense, he told himself. 

So what _the fuck_ was this?

Victor threw himself into his first jump - a quad salchow - like he had exactly zero care in the world. And he two footed the landing, lost his balance, and fell to his knees. 

And didn’t get up. 

The music stopped eventually and Yuuri found that his lungs and heart were pumping in over time. He brought his hands to his face as tears started to pour down his cheeks. He was mad. He was confused. He was sad. He was screaming. That should have been absolutely no problem for Victor to land, despite the careless take off. Yuuri could tell that he still had had some control over it.

Why wasn’t Victor getting up? _Just stand up and finish the program! he screamed in his mind. Why are you making me watch this?_

Then a guitar chord rang out, so quietly that Yuuri almost didn’t hear it over his internal screaming. It was actually sudden silence that had fallen upon the crowd that drew him back in. Victor’s free program song did not have a guitar part…he peaked through his fingers.

Yuuri’s jaw dropped as he saw Victor gliding forward as the lone guitar continued. Victor had changed his music. A playful smirk grew across his face, as if he could see the shock and confusion on Yuuri’s face. He ran his hands down his sides, dancing in front of the judges before picking up speed across the ice, bending into his front knee.

_(She told me not to step on the cracks…I told her not to fuss and relax…)_

And so began Victor’s provocative dance, his answer to the skaters who raised the technical stakes of figure skating. His one fingered salute to the Russian Skating Federation for trying to force him into being a skater he wasn’t, to force him into retirement. 

This is what Victor had planned, what he had wanted Yuuri to see. He had changed his whole free program to send a message to the world; that there’s no one way to put together a winning program. This new choreography was gorgeous and seductive, like nothing Yuuri had ever seen on the ice. This was the Victor he had been waiting for all season, the Victor he had been wanting, yearning for. 

This was the skating he had fallen in love with.

Yuuri wiped his eyes furiously on the hem of his shirt, not wanting to miss a second of this performance. His heart was still pounding, but this time out of excitement.

Everything about Victor’s movements had a renewed sense of purpose. His face had actual emotions which flowed throughout his entire body, down to the tip of his longest finger. His technical elements were just as vigorous, perhaps even more so, than the ones in the program produced by Iosef, but they had so much thought and beauty behind them now. They had a purpose beyond being flashy and hard.

Yuuri was familiar with this song enough to know that the peak came towards the end, probably closer to the end than most skaters would like. Yuuri’s knuckles were white, clutching his sheets. He was counting Victor’s jumps, nervous that there had been so few so far in the first half. 

But Victor looked determined as he entered yet another final jump combination and a rather vigorous spin sequence – all as the lyrics ‘You made me cry’ repeated, building and building into a brief gasping silence. Victor flashed a smile at the camera, and threw himself to the ice into a dramatic arc that matched perfectly with the high pitched gasp in the song. 

Yuuri watched as his face became determined. Victor started to build some speed, dancing through some intricate step sequences. Yuuri held his breath in anticipation. He knew that this was it. 

The music steadily gained momentum in time with Victor’s skates. Then…

The quad flip. The first one ever to be landed cleanly in an official ISU sanctioned event. By anyone. Ever.

It was too much. Yuuri jumped to his feet, his emotions running high. “YES! Victor!” he shouted, his hands pressing into his cheeks in disbelief.

_(I’ll cut your little heart out, cuz you made me cry)_

Victor finished up the rest of his choreography, ending with another dramatic spin sequence. The last note of the song faded and Victor threw his arms into the air, his knees falling forwards to hit the ice. He tilted his head back, and Yuuri could make out two glistening paths running from his eyes, clenched closed. Victor pumped his hands once more above his head before standing to do a lap around the rink.

The replays started to fill the time as the judges finished their scoring. Yuuri watched Victor’s quad flip as it was played in slow motion, was captivated again by Victor’s piercing gaze in a particularly dramatic step sequence.

The stream switched back to the kiss and cry. Victor’s knee was bobbing furiously, Yakov trying to keep it still with his hand (and failing miserably). Then, white numbers appeared in the skinny purple rectangle at the bottom of the screen. Victor covered his face with his hands as his body shook. A tiny ‘WR’ appeared by his total combined program score.

Yuuri let out a choked laugh as he wiped his own tears away. He had never been more proud, more moved, by anyone in his entire life. He would remember this moment for the rest of eternity. He had to tell Victor that he had watched, he had seen everything.

The phone rang once. 

Twice.

Three times.

And then Yuuri realized with another laugh that Victor wouldn’t have his phone with him. Why would he? Yuuri continued his half-laugh-half-cry until the voicemail picked up. 

“Victor,” he started, “I was watching, I saw everything. I can’t even – please, just call me!” Yuuri breathed. “I am so proud of you.”

He hung up and flopped back against his pillows. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. He had just left a voicemail for the World Champion of men’s figure skating. For the same man who, just a few months ago, had told him that he was going to retire.

His toes were curling in his slippers, the urge be on the ice was overpowering. He refreshed his YouTube search over and over again, until finally Victor’s free skate video appeared. Yuuri watched it. 

Then watched it again, this time picking up on all of the subtle things Victor had done to set up the program change. Yuuri knew that jump had looked strange - now he could see how Victor had purposefully botched it, taking absolute care not to actually injure himself. If this was what they could come to expect from Victor from now on…the skating world was not ready.

An hour and a half later, Yuuri’s phone rang. 

“Yuuri!” Victor sobbed. “I did it!”

Yuuri nodded. “I know you did. Victor I – “

“I promised you! That quad flip was all for you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri let out a half laugh/half sob. “It was for you too, Victor. Gosh, I can’t even…”

“I wish you were here. There are so many people, but I just…” Victor sighed.

“I know,” was all that Yuuri could say.

Yuuri did not regret taking a slow season to adjust to his new life. It was necessary for his anxiety. He very few experiences with international events, but they were enough to know that it was where he wanted to be, what he wanted to strive for. 

Yes, Yuuri did want to be there on the World stage skating with Victor. But, he also wanted to be there for Victor. He wanted to have conversations like this with Victor in person, while they were both riding their respective performance highs.

“Yuuri…oh Yuuri, you were right this whole time. There’s so much…there’s so much I want to tell you right now.”

“Me too,” Yuuri laughed.

“I – oh…Listen, I have to go, Yuuri. How late will you be up? Or how early? I can’t even do the time change math right now.”

“Or ever,” Yuuri interjected.

“Can I call you, after?” 

“Yes, yes anytime,” Yuuri breathed.

“Dasvidaniya, my Yuuri.”

“Dasvidaniya,” _Vitya._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering…at Worlds, Victor skated to ‘Girl with One Eye’ covered by Florence and the Machine on their first album, Lungs. Other songs I considered were ‘You Don’t Own Me’ by Grace and ‘Love Song’ by Sara Bareilles….(is it true that she wrote the lyrics after her label was bugging her to write a love song? I feel like I heard that somewhere…), but anyway, Florence won out because I absolutely love her.
> 
> Ps. I'm on Tumblr as OurLazyKittyCollection...where I mostly reblog the amazing things others in the fandom create while screaming in the tags (but I could be persuaded to post about my fics, if you all want?)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad that everyone enjoyed that last chapter! I was feeling so many things while writing it, and I’m so glad to have been able to share it with you! I absolutely love hearing all of your reactions, thoughts and questions. THANK YOU!

**_Highlights of this issue of ISU’s official magazine, April 2012:_ **

_World Champion Victor Nikiforov (22, Russia) sat down with us to talk about the inspiration behind his shocking change in programs. “I was reminded by someone very close to me that I need to stay true to myself. This program was for him. I’ve wanted to produce my own programs for a while now, and it feels amazing to have confirmation that this is the right path for my future as a figure skater. I am very much looking forward to working on my programs for next season which will focus on…” (continued on page 3)_

_Coach Yakov Feltsman of Russia speaks out against the Russian Skating Federation and its undue influence on sponsorship. “As coaches, we are trusted to act with the best interest of our skaters in mind. I hope that the Federation now recognizes that decisions surrounding program production are incredibly personal to each skater. I will continue to fight for my pupils and am incredibly proud of each and every one of them. I hope that an environment which fosters individuality and creative expression can be the norm in Russia from now on. I hope that our sponsors can continue to support this art form and trust the experts…” (continued on page 6)_

_Penny snagged an exclusive interview with Russian choreographer Iosef Leonova to discuss his first season working with professional figure skaters. “I feel very honored to have been approached by the Russian Skating Federation to work with a group of such talented individuals. Though I will no longer be working with them, I wish them all the best next season. I hope to work at the novice level at smaller rinks in the future, or return to producing for small dance studios.” (continued on page 7)_

_Mao caught up with Daisuke Takahashi, Takahiko Kozuka, and Takeshi Nishigori after the Japan Figure Skating Championships to discuss their decisions to retire. “It has been an honor to compete with so many incredible individuals from our country. We all feel confident that the future of figure skating in Japan will be very bright with Katsuki-san at its head. The guy is so daring […] Oh, and Kozuka-san and I would like to congratulate Nishigori-san on his expanding family - somehow he got Japan’s Ice Princess to say ‘yes’!” (continued on page 9)_

_The staff at ISU invites you to join us for the 2013 World Figure Skating Championships, March 11-17 in London, Ontario, Canada at the Budweiser Gardens._

 

**_April 6th, 2012_ **

“Wow, that sounds stressful,” Victor breathed. “When are you done? For the semester, I mean.”

Yuuri sighed as he glanced at the University calendar hanging askew on his wall. There were way to many things written in bold red letters for his liking. “My last paper is due May 11th.”

“What are you doing after that?” Victor asked.

“Mmm…nothing really. End of the year theater party that day, but other than that…I signed up to keep my room for the summer, so I guess just the usual - skating.”

A few moments of silence passed. “Victor?”

“Mmm?”

“Oh, just making sure you were still there. Do you need to get to bed?” Yuuri asked. It had to be nearing eleven in St. Petersburg - much later than Victor usually stayed up, even on a Friday night.

“No.”

“Kay.” Yuuri rolled onto his back. “What’re you doing then, right now?”

“Oh, not much,” Victor hummed. “Just laying in bed. Looking up flights to Detroit.”

Yuuri stretched his free arm over his head and pointed his toes, relishing his last few moments of rest before an evening of ballet drills. “Ha ha, no really - what are you doing?”

“I know you said your paper was due on the 11th, but would you still be able to pick me up if my flight got in at like ten? In the morning of course. You’re not too far from the airport, right?”

Yuuri sat up, nearly knocking his glasses off of the bed next to him. “Wait, you’re really looking at flights? To Detroit?” he clarified.

Victor chuckled. “If you don’t want me to come, you can just say so, Yuuri,” he teased.

“Wha - no, I mean yes - I want you! Here that is. I - ah,” Yuuri rambled, still trying to gather his coherent thoughts. “Ten would be fine. That’s - I can do that.”

“Great!”

Yuuri was suddenly bursting with energy. He had been planning on asking Victor about one of them coming to visit the other, but had been waiting until after his exams. But this was perfect timing - a visit from Victor was exactly what he needed to get him through these few weeks (okay, an eternity) of the semester.

“Can I stay with you? Are you allowed to have overnight guests in your dorm?” Victor asked. “Or maybe I should just grab a hotel room?”

Yuuri made a strangled noise in protest. Victor staying in a hotel was the last thing Yuuri wanted. And, by the tone of Victor’s voice, it sounded like he had only offered out of necessity or politeness. As if he didn’t want to assume anything. While Yuuri appreciated the gesture, he wanted to make certain that Victor knew that he was wanted. 

“No! To the hotel - my room is a bit small, but we can manage. Please, I’d really like you to stay with me,” he smiled. 

“Okay, good,” Victor sighed in relief. “Yuuri, I’ve been…well I’m really glad I’ll get to see you soon. I…” Victor’s voice trailed off. “I miss you. And ah…there are some things I want to talk to you about.”

Yuuri curled himself up into a tiny ball of excitement, his smile was actually causing his cheeks to ache. “Me too,” he quickly agreed.

 

**_April 11th, 2012_ **

**[Victor, 05:01]:** 30 days!  
**[Victor, 05:01]:** What’s the weather like? Do you think I’ll need a jacket?

 

**_April 26th, 2012_ **

**[Victor, 12:45, picture message]:** [image of assorted shirts and pants laid out on a bed]

 **[Yuuri, 12:46]:** That’s way too much stuff!  
**[Yuuri, 12:46]:** Seriously how will you fit that into your suitcase?  
**[Yuuri, 12:47]:** And what will you wear for the next 15 days? Literally that’s more clothing than I own…

 **[Victor, 12:50]:** Just want to be prepared. Also, I’m a master packer.  
**[Victor, 12:50]:** and you’re right…I should probably go shopping for things to wear in the meantime.

 **[Yuuri, 13:30]:** …

 

**_May 3rd, 2012_ **

**[Yuuri, 10:57]:** A friend has extra symphony tix for the 15th. Want to go?

 **[Victor, 11:05]:** !!!!  
**[Victor, 11:05]:** I haven’t been in ages!  
**[Victor, 11:05]:** (´♡`)ﾉ♪♪♪

**_May 11th, 2012_ **

Yuuri checked the arrival gate number again. He had already walked by the monitor three times and had Victor confirm the gate number as well after he had landed. That was only ten minutes ago, but it had been the longest ten minutes of Yuuri’s existence. 

The idea of Victor spending nearly a full week with him in Detroit had been exactly that - an idea. Despite the fact that they actually had concrete plans (the physical evidence of which was in a thick envelope, embossed with the Symphony’s logo, in Yuuri’s desk drawer), it had still seemed like a blissful fantasy during the car ride over to the airport, during the walk from the far surface lot to the lobby. Yuuri was pretty sure it wouldn’t feel real until Victor was there, standing in front of him. And even then, he would probably still need a handshake or a hug. 

Or a kiss. 

He drew in another deep breath as he lifted his heels off of the tile floor once more, pulling himself up to his tallest point, straining his neck over the crowds. And then he heard Victor’s laugh, his unmistakable accented English. Yuuri jumped (just a little) and caught a flash of silver hair popping up from the baggage claim conveyer. 

And then Victor’s head popped up an inch further above the crowd, turning left and right as he walked away from the baggage vultures. Yuuri popped his hand into the air, drawing in a deep breath to call out for Victor, and immediately received an stray elbow in his ribs. The business man said something in a raised voice, but Yuuri didn’t care because the mild commotion drew Victor’s attention and those blue eyes finally found his. And they went suddenly soft and warm in a way that Yuuri had never seen before. His smile was vibrant and tender as he made his way across the airport lobby to Yuuri.

Yuuri felt his own smile spreading uncontrollably across his face. He wanted to run through the crowd, wanted to throw himself into Victor’s open arms. But he kept himself rooted and tried desperately to look casual and patient as Victor dragged his bags through the sea of travelers. 

_Why were there so many people traveling this morning?_ he whined as Victor got held up by a women attempting to distribute boarding passes to her four kids. Victor just smiled and excused himself as he navigated around them. 

The sea suddenly parted, leaving a carved out path on the shiny tile floor connecting them. Yuuri noticed Victor’s feet moving more quickly to close the final few yards separating them. Finally, one hundred and fifty-seven heart beats after they had first locked eyes, Victor wrapped Yuuri in his arms and pressed his nose to the top of Yuuri’s head. Yuuri smiled held onto Victor’s waist more tightly than he ever had before. 

All of their ‘hello’s and I’ve missed you’s were left unsaid, but were felt and understood all the same.

When they finally pulled apart, Victor had an impossibly warm smile on his face. He laced his fingers through Yuuri’s, and Yuuri couldn’t help the redness blooming across his face. Though it was a fairly normal gesture for them at this point, it somehow felt different today, more significant. Yuuri looked down at their joined hands and squeezed lightly. He watched the muscles in Victor’s hand contract as he returned the gesture. 

Yuuri felt a twinge of disappointment that Victor had not swept him up in a desperate reunion kiss, like always happened in movies. The darker side of his anxious mind started to whisper in doubt - that he had been wrong this whole time, that Victor would never consider him as a romantic partner. 

But then Victor smiled again and planted a kiss to the side of Yuuri’s head, quickly killing these thoughts. Yuuri firmly reminded himself that it was no longer a matter of ‘would they kiss again’, but rather ‘when would they’ and ‘who would make the first move.’ His body thrummed in excitement as he realized that he had the green light to take advantage the perfect moment, should it arise. 

Though, Yuuri also found himself thinking that he might prefer it if Victor were to make the first move - or the ‘first move part two’ in this case. He had always imagined it being that way.

“Shall we?” Victor asked, pulling Yuuri towards the automatic doors. 

xXx

The shared suite area was empty when they arrived. Empty and quite messy, Yuuri noticed with embarrassment. “My room is through here,” he said, trying to keep Victor’s eyes from lingering too long on the papers, books, and clothing strewn about the room.

He dropped one of Victor’s bags next to his desk and flicked on the lamp. Victor was already poking around at his things, always so interested in every aspect of Yuuri’s life. “So…did you want to eat first, or nap?” Yuuri asked, running his hand through his hair nervously. 

Victor looked up at him from a picture of the two of them with Vicchan on the beach from December. “Nap, I think. That was a very long flight.”

Yuuri nodded. “I still have a little bit to finish up on a final paper, so I’ll just be outside if you need me.”

Victor flopped down on top of Yuuri’s comforter with a satisfied sigh. “What’re we doing later?”

“Ah well…my theater group is having an end of the semester party later,” he said as he continued to rummage through his backpack for his laptop cord. “But if you don’t want to go, we can do something else.”

Victor smiled at him. “I’d like to meet your friends. We should go.”

“Kay, we don’t have to stay long though, if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”

Victor shook his head as he curled one of his arms under Yuuri’s pillow. “I’m okay as long as I’m with you. Besides,” Victor added, “I’ve never really done the whole college thing.”

Oh right, Yuuri had forgotten. “Well I wouldn’t say that a theater cast party is your typical college party. They can be a bit…well…you’ll see, I suppose.”

“Can we eat at the cafeteria, too?” Victor asked. 

“Aha…umm, this late in the semester, probably not. I mean, usually the food here is fine, but it seems like they stop ordering things the last week or two of the semester,” Yuuri laughed. “I had cooked spinach and vegetable medley on a slice of white bread, topped with corn flakes for breakfast this morning. And some very watered down juice.”

Victor wrinkled his nose at the description.

“There’s a little casual Italian place around the corner that I thought we could do for dinner,” Yuuri paused, “and we can do tacos at midnight sometime if you want another college experience.”

“Wow, okay,” Victor chuckled, followed quickly by a yawn. “Well, just wake me up…an hour before you’re ready to go.”

Yuuri nodded and slipped his laptop under his arm. “On or off?” he asked, pointing to his desk lamp. 

“Mmm, off please,” Victor sighed, already curled up in Yuuri’s favorite fleece blanket.

Yuuri flicked off the light and headed out into the common suite area once more. He spent a few minutes tidying up, trying to determine who's books were who's (eventually giving up) as he tried to process the fact that Victor was finally here. Though they were seeing each other much more often this year than they ever had growing up, the months since the Grand Prix Final had seemed like an eternity.

But now, Victor was here - he was laying in Yuuri’s bed - and was going to spend nearly a full week in his company. 

The hug that they had shared at the airport served as a release for all of the pent up energy and emotions that had been flowing through his body since watching Victor’s free skate at Worlds. He had wanted to throw his arms around Victor so badly as he watched him celebrating in the kiss and cry, and he felt so much more settled, so much more grounded, now that he finally had Victor in his arms.

Yuuri knew that his time with Victor this week was going to be different. Their relationship had taken a turn when they kissed on the platform of the train station. They both had had enough time to figure out what it meant, what they wanted. And just knowing that they were now physically together to explore this new place had Yuuri so absolutely, wonderfully high on life.

He smiled at the thin black line, blinking brightly mid sentence on the page in front of him. Maybe if he finished this essay quickly, Yuuri could curl up into Victor’s hot heat and fall asleep listening to his heart beating and his lungs rising and falling beneath his own cheek.

In the end, however, it was Victor who wandered out of Yuuri’s room to find him still tugging at his hair in frustration at the remaining white space on the screen. Yuuri had nearly jumped out of his skin when Victor hugged him from behind, leaning over the back of the chair. Victor just stood there as Yuuri struggled to figure out how to neatly wrap-up the essay. His hands running up and down Yuuri’s arms in silent support. His chin heavy on Yuuri’s left shoulder. His breath hot on Yuuri’s neck. 

“Hmmm… Can I?” Victor asked quietly, placing his hands over Yuuri’s on the keyboard. 

Yuuri sighed. “Please. Literally any twenty-seven words would be fine at this point.”

Victor laughed, his breath tickling the top of Yuuri’s head. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Yuuri watched as Victor slowly typed, deleted, and re-typed a few short sentences. “How about this?” he asked.

Yuuri read the final few paragraphs carefully. Then scrolled to the beginning of the document and gave a quick skim. “Really good actually. Thanks,” he said in relief. 

Victor squeezed his shoulders. “Great!”

Yuuri saved the document and scrolled over to the internet browser. After a few clicks, his last paper of the semester was finally submitted. “Done!” he announced, closing his laptop with a bit more vigor than usual.

“Yuuri - come help me with mine!” a voice whined from a few doors away.

“Who’s that?” Victor whispered. 

“Mitch,” Yuuri sighed. “How much have you got left?” he called back.

“I need five hundred more words. And a title.”

Yuuri quickly gathered up his stuff from the table. “Well have fun with that. Victor and I are going for dinner now.”

“Your friend’s here?” 

There was a brief rustle from behind the mostly closed door off to the left before Mitch emerged. He stood there gaping for a moment before Victor broke the silence. “Victor,” he said, holding out his hand. 

Mitch shook it and pulled Victor in for a light hug and slap on the back while introducing himself as Yuuri’s suite mate. “He’s so hot!” he mouthed at Yuuri over Victor’s shoulder. 

Yuuri’s cheeks flamed. “Stop it!” he mouthed in return.

“Well I can see you have better things to do than help me, Yuuri,” Mitch announced as he let Victor go. “You two coming to the party later?”

Yuuri nodded. “We’ll see you there,” he said, leading Victor back to his bedroom.

Yuuri closed the door behind them. “Mitch seems nice,” Victor commented. “Is he the acting major?”

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, singer turned actor really. He officially got transferred last week.”

Victor crouched down and pulled open his suitcase. “What are you going to wear?” he asked casually.

Yuuri opened the door to his closet and flicked through a few things. “Dinner is pretty casual, and the party will be too,” he bit his lip hoping that the shirt he was looking for wasn’t in the hamper. 

He paused as he heard a rustle of clothing behind him. The temptation to turn around was almost unbearable, but Yuuri forced himself to keep searching for his shirt and jeans - the ones that made his ass look amazing, or so he had been told on several occasions.

“Is this okay then?” Victor asked. 

Yuuri turned around, his prized jeans in hand. His tongue ran unbidden across his lips as he gave Victor a once over. He groaned internally - Victor was definitely going to be the focus of everyone’s attention at the party in those dark grey jeans and navy blue button up. “Good, that looks…umm good,” Yuuri stuttered. 

“Good,” Victor smiled, teasingly. “Bathroom through here?” he asked, gesturing to Yuuri’s tiny, yet private, on-suite. 

Yuuri nodded. Victor disappeared behind the door with his small overnight bag, presumably to freshen up. Yuuri made quick work of his pants, tugging the tight denim over his hips. _Good, they still fit,_ he sighed. He also managed to find a light long sleeved shirt in the back of his closet. It wasn’t the one he had originally planned on wearing, but it would have to do.

Victor emerged from the bathroom, his hair freshly styled and teeth shining, just as Yuuri was fastening his belt. “Wow,” he smiled, not even bothering to hide the way his eyes tracked over Yuuri’s body. 

Despite reminding himself that Victor’s reaction was the one he had been trying for, Yuuri still couldn’t stop the blush creeping across his face. “I’ll be ready in a minute,” he said, entering the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

_Okay,_ he told himself as he spit his rinse in to the sink, _you both want this, you can do it._

Yuuri cleaned his glasses thoroughly, briefly amusing himself with the idea of Victor also giving himself lame pep talks in bathroom mirrors. Victor was incredibly attractive, but Yuuri also knew the man was a huge dork. Yuuri reminded himself one final time that he and Victor were in the same place, probably feeling the same things right now - a cocktail of nerves and excitement. He patted himself on the back for being so rational before he finally emerged from the tiny bathroom.

His breath caught in his chest when he saw Victor sitting casually on the desk, legs crossed in front of him at the ankles as he flicked the pad of his thumb over his phone screen. Yuuri’s anticipation mounted even more. Though this was not explicitly a date, it already felt so much different from every other time they had gone out for dinner together. 

“Shall we?” Yuuri asked, mimicking Victor’s question from the airport earlier. 

Victor looked up and Yuuri was pleased to see something maybe a little vulnerable in his smile. He appreciated the way that Victor so clearly treasured their enduring friendship, the way he seemed still just a little bit nervous with anticipation of what was to come. While Yuuri was hoping that some things would change in their relationship this week, he still wanted their foundation to remain the same.

“Lead the way,” Victor replied, pushing himself upright.

Yuuri slid his wallet and keys into his pocket and they were off. 

xXx

The Italian place was absolutely packed when they arrived. “It’s a forty-five minute wait for a table, but feel free to take a spot at the bar if one opens up. Full dinner service is still offered there,” the hostess explained. 

Yuuri sighed. “It’s because the cafeteria is so understocked,” he explained. 

Victor shrugged. “I don’t mind the bar - oh look, that couple is leaving,” he said pointing to the far end of the room.

“We’ll do the bar, thanks,” he told the hostess. 

She nodded and moved on to help the group women in line behind them as they moved further into the restaurant. Victor’s hand immediately came to rest on the small of Yuuri’s back, a firm warm presence leading him towards the bar. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile. He hoped everyone here could see that he was here with Victor and Victor was here with him. 

A server had just finished wiping down the counter top when they arrived at the recently vacated stools. Victor gestured for Yuuri to take the one on the end as he squeezed next to the other occupant. Yuuri was grateful for this as he always felt uncomfortable sitting so close to strangers. 

They were quickly handed menus and two glasses of water. “Drinks?” the bar tender asked, wiping his hands on the black apron at his waist.

Victor raised an eyebrow at Yuuri. “I’m okay with water,” Yuuri replied. 

Victor indicated that he would have the same. “I forgot about the age policies here,” Victor sighed after the bartender ducked away. 

“Not like it’s stopping you,” Yuuri huffed, “but there will be plenty of interesting things to try later when we get to Jason’s.” 

Yuuri felt Victor’s thigh press fully against his as they flicked through the menu. He returned the pressure, enjoying their close proximity. He let his hand fall to Victor’s leg, his palm laying flat just above Victor’s knee. It was quickly covered by Victor’s own. 

Yuuri realized that the pair probably looked ridiculous trying to prop open the expansive menus with one hand. Though he could only fully read the right hand side of the page, there was no way he was going to move his hand. It was fortunate that Yuuri had opened the menu to the entree section, rather than the appetizers or drinks - page flipping was out of the question. 

“What are you thinking?” Victor asked, abandoning his own menu to assist Yuuri in holding his open.

“Everything here is really good,” Yuuri admitted, shifting the menu a bit so Victor could see, or at least pretend to. They flipped back and forth between a few pages.

“I think I’m deciding between these two,” Victor said, gesturing to them with his index finger the best he could. 

Yuuri bit his lip. Victor had pointed out Yuuri’s favorite salad and the butternut squash ravioli. “We could do both and split?” he suggested. 

Victor smiled at him and somehow Yuuri got the idea that this was exactly what Victor had been hoping for. “Perfect,” he said, his blue eyes shining as he waved to grab the attention of the bar tender. 

After putting in their order, Victor turned back to Yuuri and raised his water glass. Yuuri grabbed his own with a questioning eyebrow raise. “You passed your final skill tests right after Worlds, right?” Victor asked, and Yuuri nodded in response. “To our first season as official competitors,” he finished. 

Yuuri smiled as their glasses clinked. “May the best skater win,” he said before taking a long drink. 

Victor placed his glass down on the coaster, tracing a few beads of water as they dripped down the side. “I’m excited, it feels like I’ve been waiting for this for a very long time,” Victor said, with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

His eyes flickered up to meet Yuuri’s. Yuuri smiled and flipped his hand over so their palms were together, still resting on Victor’s leg. “Me too.”

xXx

They arrived at Jason’s off-campus rental house fashionably late, though the party wasn’t in ‘full swing’ yet. Yuuri introduced Victor to their student director and host for the evening before making his way to the drinks station. 

“I’d stay away from that, unless you plan on staying away from all noise and not going out in the sun for a few days,” Yuuri warned as Victor reached for the label laying in a pool of red liquid. He reached for a bottle of fruit juice and the clear bottle next to it. “It’s usually a good idea to mix your own. Or well for me it is.”

Victor nodded and placed his red cup down next to Yuuri’s for him to fill as well. Yuuri did some careful guesstimation, aiming for ‘a few extra giggles and no mistakes’. He mixed in the fruit juice with a straw before handing one of the cups to Victor.

“Cheers,” he said, raising his glass.

Victor laughed as they ‘clinked’ the plastic together. “To the end of your first year!”

They meandered over to where Yuuri had spotted Mitch standing with his partner, introducing Victor to various cast members and classmates on the way. Victor’s arm felt warm and comforting draped across his lower back, his thumb hooking casually into one of Yuuri’s belt loops, as they stood sipping drinks with his friends. Yuuri loved it. Loved the way Victor shared his space, allowing Yuuri to lean back into his chest and feel the rumble of his laughter.

They were both nearing the bottom of their fruity concoction, but Yuuri knew that was only a small part of the reason he was so content and relaxed at that moment. He had felt this feeling before - once during ballet camp and again during Victor’s brief stay in Hasetsu - but it was still thrilling to have Victor present and participating in his life. Like he belonged there at Yuuri’s side.

Yuuri distantly noticed that the music had stopped. Victor looked at him questioningly as someone stood in the center of the room. Yuuri sighed. Apparently someone had decided, likely Jason, that there were enough people here to finally start the party. 

“Hey, did you see this? Julian Marsh is doing a show!” Terry shouted with a slight east coast accent.

“It’s in Variety! Julian Marsh is doing a show!” Marissa answered as she walked past where Yuuri and Victor were standing to join Terry in the center of the room.

Yuuri just smirked as Victor’s eyes got a bit wider. “Jobs!” he shouted with the rest of the room. “We’re going to work again!”

Victor grabbed at his elbow. “What’s happening?” he asked with a bemused smile.

The rest of the room continued on with the rest of the lines, moving about the room to find their places. Yuuri grabbed Victor’s hand and moved them back and all the way to the right. “42nd Street,” he tried to explain. “How are your tap and jazz?”

“Out of practice,” Victor laughed. “But why?”

“Welcome to a theater party, Victor!” Yuuri laughed.

“We tried to pick a few good songs from each of our shows, Victor,” Mitch’s partner explained as he slid into his place. 

“Don’t worry, Yuuri. We picked one especially for you later,” Jason winked, as he walked past them to the front of the room.

Yuuri’s cheeks burned as his feet started dancing through the familiar tap sequence. Victor’s eyes lit up in delight. “Which one?” he asked. 

“Don’t!” Yuuri warned.

Jason just laughed. “Oh, you’re in for a real treat, Victor.”

Yuuri shook his head when Victor looked at him. Hopefully he could find an excuse for them to leave before it was his turn. “Just watch my feet and try to keep up,” he told Victor. 

“Wait - Yuuri, slow down!” Victor pleaded with a laugh, his feet getting tangled up with one another. To his credit, Victor did pick up some of the basic steps by the end of the song. 

Another choreographed song started and Yuuri heard Victor huff in amusement. “You learned all of this choreography?” he asked as Yuuri started to coach him through the basic movements. 

Yuuri nodded. “Amazing,” Victor praised. 

“We can just do our own thing over here though. To be honest, I don’t remember this show all that well,” Yuuri admitted. 

Yuuri removed himself and Victor slightly away from the main area, so they ad-libbed their way through ‘Getting to be a Habit with Me’, with Yuuri taking the lead. Victor was laughing and smiling in his arms as they danced. The gleam in his eyes were echoed in Yuuri’s as he allowed himself to be lowered expertly into a dip. 

Victor pulled Yuuri into his chest after rising back up, his face was getting flushed, as was Yuuri’s. There was a brief pause in the music when Jason was presumably trying to find the next set of songs, which Victor used to snag them each a small water bottle from the coolers in the corner. Yuuri finished his off quickly, tossing it towards the nearby trashcan. He missed, and shook his head as he went to go fix his poor aim. Yuuri was having so much fun.

He looked back in time to see Victor’s eyes widen, glued to something happening across the room. Yuuri turned in the direction of his gaze and groaned. A shiny silver pole had been erected in the middle of the dance floor. Yuuri quickly made his way back to Victor, intent on asking him if he wanted to step outside for a moment to catch some air - a reasonable request.

But Jason got to them first. “Oh Yuuri! Your turn,” he smirked.

Victor’s eyes flashed to Yuuri. He looked absolutely dumbstruck. Yuuri blushed, his cheeks flaming under the expectant gaze of everyone in the room. “But my part of the dance doesn’t even last through the whole song - just certain parts! And mostly at the end!” he tried to protest.

Jason shrugged and Mitch pulled on his arm. “Improvise - everyone knows you’re good enough to do it. You taught all of us, after all.”

Yuuri groaned. “I hate all of you,” he whined. 

It was going to be a bit difficult to improvise smoothly to this song, which was styled as a tango. But Mitch and Jason had him dragged halfway across the room already. Yuuri chanced a glance backwards to Victor, who was still standing there, looking star struck…but definitely interested.

“Pants,” Mitch smirked, as he tugged teasingly at Yuuri’s belt buckle.

Oh god, he could not do this. Not in front of Victor…or could he? A smile flickered suddenly across Yuuri’s face. Perhaps he could use this to get what he wanted.

Yuuri forced his eyes away from Victor as he slipped out of his jeans, his hands only barely shaking, thanking himself for wearing his favorite black boxer briefs. When they were off, he threw them at Mitch with much more force than necessary. Jason laughed and forced his fingers around the cool metal and flicked open his top few buttons as the song started.

Yuuri took a few steps around the pole, pulling at it to test it’s sturdiness. He drew in a deep breath and slicked his bangs away from his face with his free hand, popping his hips off to the side and away from the pole.

It was decided. 

Yuuri was going to spend the next few minutes seducing Victor Nikiforov. He was going to make Victor so desperate for him that the man would have to kiss him. And Yuuri wanted a real kiss this time, with tongue and hands and _noises_.

Someone turned up the volume and Yuuri climbed his way up the pole, his newfound determination mixing with liquid courage still lingering in his veins. Not enough to be sloppy, but enough to let him really have fun with this. Enough to convince himself that he really could seduce Victor. The looks they had been sharing, the intense heat of Victor’s hands sprawling over his body as they danced further and further beyond the bounds of friendship, had Yuuri on edge in the best way possible. 

And he hoped that Victor was right there with him.

He took a deep breath as he reached the top of the silver pole and dipped into a deep back bend, his eyes meeting Victor’s for the first time. Victor’s pink lips were parted in shock, and he was already pulling lightly at his collar as he watched Yuuri from across the room. Something in Yuuri’s chest purred at this reaction, and he smiled, slowly spinning his way down the pole, his body falling into familiar movements.

The original Broadway version of Chicago didn’t really feature much pole dancing…but after a rumor spread that Yuuri had experience with such art forms…the director decided that it would be an interesting interpretation. An opportunity for the background dancers to expand their skill sets. They had metal bars on order form the Shop anyway…so why not just keep a few singular instead of welding all of them them into cell doors?

The opening night of that show was one of the most powerful, liberating experiences of Yuuri’s entire life. 

Until now. 

Yuuri smirked and, feeling increasingly brave, wiggled a finger at Victor. The response was nearly immediate, as if Yuuri was reeling Victor in by an invisible string. Yuuri cupped Victor’s chin when he came into reach. He took a moment to admire the heat that had built up in Victor’s cheeks, causing them to turn the most delicious shade of rose. 

_I’m the only one that can satisfy you, Victor,_ Yuuri thought as he dragged his fingers lazily down the side of Victor’s neck. He could feel the tension simmering between them, yet Victor was still holding back. 

Well, that just wouldn’t do, Yuuri decided. He was suddenly so tired of waiting. His fingers reached the collar of Victor’s shirt. He curled the material into his fist and pulled. 

Their foreheads met, and Yuuri could smell cherries on Victor’s breath. Victor’s eyes widened and Yuuri could hear his breath catch in surprise. Yuuri’s smile grew wider as he pulled himself back up and around the pole, folding his knee up to his shoulder. Victor stumbled backwards several feet as Yuuri spun out to the floor, the song ending right on cue.

Yuuri breathed heavily as he brought his hands up to his hair. Jason helped him to his feet. He grasped Yuuri’s bicep tightly, pulling him in close to whisper, “I’ll give you thirty bucks if your not-boyfriend still has dry boxers after that.”

“Jason!” Yuuri gasped as Jason pushed his discarded jeans into his chest. He flicked his eyes up to where Victor was standing. 

Where Victor was _staring_ , like Yuuri had flicked some invisible switch inside of him.

“Oh,” he sighed. Victor’s eyes were storming, focused only on him. 

Yuuri’s breath hitched in his chest under the intensity of Victor’s gaze. _Well, this is certainly the effect you wanted,_ he reminded himself as he made quick work of shimmying back into his pants. He drew in a deep breath and made his way slowly back to Victor.

“That…was from one of you shows?” Victor asked when they were close enough to speak. 

Yuuri started to freeze at the unexpectedly serious tone in Victor’s voice. He prayed he hadn’t just messed everything up by making a fool out of himself. “Y-yes?”

“You…danced like that…in front of hundreds of people?”

Yuuri felt his face redden. “Umm…yes. I was in the background, but…”

Victor teased his fingers down the exposed V of Yuuri’s chest. “That was…Yuuri,” he said, guiding his fingers under Yuuri’s chin and forcing their eyes to meet. “Do you know how incredible you are?” he asked, stepping a foot between Yuuri’s. 

Yuuri let out a nervous laugh and pressed his hands flat against Victor’s chest. _Oh god_ , he thought, _it actually worked_.

Victor brought their noses together, and Yuuri held his breath as Victor’s breath caressed his face. “I had everything all planned out, but you just…you’re just so-“

His forehead collided harshly with Victor’s face and his hand curled into Victor’s shirt as he steadied himself. 

“Woah, woah! If you’re not gon’ dance…” the drunk blonde gave Yuuri a once over. “Oh, you - it’s you! You’re like sex… on that pole. Fuck, dance with me. Or dancing fuck me,” he slurred, trying to pull Yuuri out of Victor’s grasp. 

Victor’s eyes narrowed and Yuuri felt hands tighten on his hips. “Move along,” he demanded. 

The blonde raised his eyebrows and muttered something along the lines of ‘what the fuck man’, but he walked away all the same. 

“Sorry,” Yuuri mumbled. How did his cheeks keep getting warmer?

Victor’s eyes lit up in recognition of the next song - a more typical ‘club’ tune. Apparently nothing could top the performance that Yuuri had delivered. Victor’s eyes flashed as he turned Yuuri and pulled him backwards into his chest. Victor replaced his hands low on Yuuri’s hips and Yuuri shivered as Victor’s hot breath met his ears, “This okay?” 

Yuuri pushed his hips back into Victor’s body (okay there was a slight chance that he would not be getting money from Jason) and wound his arms up, back and around Victor’s damp neck in response. The smile stayed plastered on Yuuri’s face as they started dancing like the couples around them. Yuuri felt invincible, alive, with Victor’s arms pulling him close, the heat of their bodies simmering below the deep bass coming from the speakers. 

They stayed like this for a while, not speaking, Yuuri melting further and further into Victor’s hot embrace. This was new, and Yuuri loved it. Had that been jealousy in Victor’s voice when the blonde had tried to cut in? He had called Yuuri…he groaned inwardly. Why did people say such embarrassing things?

Oh, he remembered, Victor had been saying something. He should probably ask - 

Something warm and wet pressed against his neck, thoroughly drawing him out of his thoughts.

 _“Victor,”_ he gasped, the word passing through his lips without his permission, lengthening his neck in response. 

Victor planted another kiss closer to his ear. Yuuri tightened his grasp on Victor’s hands (still holding his hips), his mind going hotly blank. He let out an audible moan when he felt Victor’s teeth pulling lightly at his ear lobe.

“Yuuri?” Victor murmured, his breath hot against Yuuri’s ear. 

“Hmm?” Yuuri managed, tipping his head slightly to look back at Victor.

Victor was staring at him, his eyes wide and dark, his lips lightly parted. He shifted, pressing his nose to Yuuri’s cheek. “Were you trying to seduce me?” he asked, his breath ghosting deliciously across Yuuri’s lips.

Yuuri slowly, carefully spun himself in Victor’s arms so that their chests were flush against each other. He flicked his eyes up to meet Victor’s. His heart was racing, and a press of his hand against Victor’s chest told him his heart was not alone.

“Yes,” he said softly, but with a surprising amount of confidence.

“Mmmm,” Victor hummed in approval. He tightened his hands at Yuuri’s waist, catching his thumbs into Yuuri’s belt loops.

“Did - did it work?” he asked.

Heat danced across Yuuri’s face as Victor licked his lips. “Yes,” Victor replied, his voice deep with something unfamiliar, but exciting.

It made Yuuri shiver and clench his fists more tightly into Victor’s shirt. “Good - ah that’s very…good.”

Something rumbled deep inside of Victor’s chest. Their lips were fractions of a centimeter from touching. Yuuri automatically mimicked Victor’s earlier action, allowing his tongue to sweep over his own lips. It brushed Victor’s mouth in the process. It was unintentional on Yuuri’s part, but it seemed that was all the consent Victor needed. His lips met Yuuri’s fully, a sigh slipping out from deep within his chest. 

Victor tasted of his sweet vanilla lip balm and cherries as their lips moved together. Yuuri brought his hands up to Victor’s hair, tugging lightly, drawing a gasp from Victor. His arms tightened around Yuuri, pulling him impossibly closer. Their noses brushed each other’s cheeks as their lips continued to move, with more purpose. Victor’s lips were so soft beneath his own, morphing to meet whatever movements Yuuri’s were making. Victor’s hand retreated from Yuuri’s cheek to his hair as the kiss deepened. 

It was Victor who pulled away first. Yuuri was pleased to see that he looked thoroughly kissed, and magnificently blissed. He couldn’t help but smile. Victor returned it, and Yuuri watched the small lines creep out from the corners of Victor’s eyes. A real smile, one reserved for his moments of elation. 

“Want to get out of here?” Yuuri asked, pressing another kiss firmly to Victor’s lips. He was loathe to stop their kissing, but he also desperately wanted to be somewhere with less people. 

“Da - Yes,” Victor hissed.

Yuuri laced their fingers together and they spent a few minutes trying to find Jason to give their parting thank you’s. 

Victor pulled Yuuri to his chest when they stepped out onto the porch, capturing his lips in another kiss, this one more tender than the last. “Mmmmm,” Yuuri hummed as he stood on his tip toes to draw his arms around Victor’s neck.

Victor pressed his forehead into Yuuri’s. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that,” he confessed.

“Well, you kind of did?” Yuuri laughed. 

Victor gave him a soft smile and kissed each of his cheeks in turn. “I meant like _that_.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Yuuri asked, genuinely curious as to why Victor had been so hesitant.

“I think you could probably guess.” He planted another soft kiss to the tip of Yuuri’s nose before he joined their fingers together.

“What makes you think that?” Yuuri asked as he led the way back to campus. 

“Because I know you’ve been wanting to as well,” he smirked. 

“Wh-what?”

Victor’s laugh was light and kind. “You have very expressive eyes, my Yuuri. I’ve seen them, practically heard them. ‘Kiss me!’ they would say.”

Yuuri’s face grew warmer despite the cool spring breeze. “So then why didn’t you - other than at the train station, which apparently doesn’t count?” he asked again.

“Why didn’t you?” Victor parroted. 

“I asked first.”

“I think you know why.”

Yuuri looked up to see an incredibly devious smile on Victor’s face. He conceded to himself that there were likely dozens of reasons why, time and emotional states being two important ones. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to hear what Victor was thinking, what Victor had gone through while working out his feelings. Instead, Yuuri just remarked on Victor’s stubbornness. “You’re very annoying sometimes, you know?”

“But mostly you like me?” Victor asked with a twinkle in his eye as he brought the back of Yuuri’s hand to meet his lips.

“Yes, mostly I like you,” Yuuri replied, nudging his elbow into Victor’s side. 

The solid red hand appeared on the traffic light as the approached the last intersection. Usually this would annoy Yuuri, but tonight he smiled and nuzzled his nose into the side of Victor’s neck. He felt Victor’s arms hug him closer. “I like you too,” he murmured, pressing his lips into Yuuri’s hair. 

Mitch was curled up on the couch with his partner when they got back to Yuuri’s suite. They exchanged a knowing smile as Yuuri and Victor quickly removed their shoes and hung up their coats. Mitch asked how the rest of the party was, and Yuuri gave him a short run down assuring him he didn’t miss much, though he couldn’t speak for what happened after they left (theater crew parties tended to rage long into the night). Victor’s hand tugged lightly at Yuuri’s and he bid the couple a hasty good night following behind Victor.

Victor pressed his lips against Yuuri’s the second the door closed behind them, his hands pulling firmly at Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri’s heart was pounding in his chest and he was experiencing an overall sensation of weightlessness. But this wasn’t from the alcohol, which had long worn off…Yuuri realized his heart was pounding because of how happy he was. 

Victor’s mouth dipped to his jaw, then further to plant hot kisses down his neck. Yuuri heard himself gasp as he instinctively moved his head back to grant Victor better access, anything to keep those plush lips moving across his skin. His fingers wound themselves tightly into Victor’s hair.

Yuuri had no idea that kissing could be like this – too much and not enough at the same time. Victor’s finger tips brushed lightly against Yuuri’s pulse point after he pulled away, eliciting another sound from deep within him. 

“Beautiful, my Yuuri,” he purred, breath hitting just below Yuuri’s ear. “So responsive. I had always wondered if you would be like this.”

Well, how else was he supposed to respond? This was his first _proper_ kiss and it was with _Victor_ and it was mind-blowingly incredible.

Victor’s eyes widened, and he whispered something in Russian before kissing Yuuri’s cheek. He rubbed his thumb along Yuuri’s bottom lip. “I’m the first?” Victor smiled.

Yuuri blushed. “I didn’t mean to…” he buried his face in his hands. 

Victor just laughed lightly, dragging his finger tips up Yuuri’s forearms, kissing each of his knuckles in turn as he peeled them away from his face. Victor pulled at his wrists and Yuuri allowed them to fall away from his face and back to Victor’s chest. Victor had those faint lines fracturing from the corners of his eyes again. Something inside of Yuuri buzzed in pride and happiness, knowing that he had made Victor look that way.

Victor’s hand came under Yuuri’s chin, coaxing it upwards with the lightest of touches. His brilliant blue eyes stared down at Yuuri, sparkling behind long silver lashes. Yuuri smiled and pressed his lips ever so lightly against Victor’s. This kiss was lazy and unhurried, as if they both remembered that they had a whole week to spend in each other’s embrace. 

Yuuri found himself amazed at how easy it was to kiss Victor. He had been so nervous at the thought before tonight - what if he was bad at it? What if he didn’t like it? What if Victor didn't like it? As usual, all of his worrying was for nothing. Kissing Victor felt amazing and, while there was some awkward angling with their noses and Yuuri’s glasses, everything just seemed to fit together so well between them. It was better than Yuuri had ever imagined.

“We should get ready for bed,” Victor sighed as they drew apart. 

Yuuri nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Kay, you can use the bathroom first,” he offered, gesturing to his tiny on-suite. 

Yuuri turned toward his bed as Victor gathered his kit and clothing from his suitcase. “My bed’s kind of small, but I could always take the fl-“

Victor quieted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “I like to cuddle. You should know this by now, Yuuri,” Victor teased.

Yuuri did know this, but it was oh so nice to hear Victor say it out loud. He was also not quite sure what the protocol was now that they were kissing, and not just friends laying together in support and comfort. 

He plugged in his phone to charge and cracked the window open slightly to welcome in the cool night breeze, knowing that Victor tended to generate a lot of heat at night. He pressed his face to his pillow and sheets and was relieved to find that they still smelled fresh. They smelled like his ocean sands body wash mixed with faint traces of lavender from Victor’s nap earlier.

Yuuri smiled into the cotton. They had kissed - _actually_ kissed, his mind sang. He realized that there were probably still some things that they should probably talk about, but he was content to leave it at kissing for the night. Yuuri was tired and could only imagine that Victor was exhausted after his day of travel and evening of dancing. 

And kissing.

Yuuri smiled even wider, biting back a laugh. 

Victor emerged more quickly than Yuuri expected. “Are you a morning shower person?” he asked, after extracting himself from the pillow. 

Victor nodded. “I’ve tried to at night before but…I just feel unsettled if I don’t shower in the mornings.”

“I’m the same, but at night. I feel…weird getting into bed without having showered.”

“Oh, will it bother you that I didn’t?” Victor asked.

“No, it’s just a ‘me’ thing,” Yuuri explained. “There’s an outlet by the desk, if you need to charge your phone.”

Victor nodded in thanks and Yuuri proceeded to take the fastest shower of his life, because the worst thing that could happen right now would be Victor falling asleep before he could get at least a few more goodnight kisses out of him. He did, however, take his time brushing his teeth, and did not fail to notice that Victor had placed his own toothbrush into the cup that held Yuuri’s. 

He quickly finished towel drying his hair and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and the most comfortable cotton t-shirt he owned before finally emerging. Victor was lounging against his pillows in a very similar state of dress, scrolling through something on his phone as Yuuri approached. 

Yuuri had never been more aware of the speed at which he walked than he was in that moment - anything that wasn’t a full-on sprint across the room seemed like he was moving his legs through tar. 

Victor put his phone down on the window ledge behind his head as Yuuri hoisted himself up onto the bed. “Hey,” he said, pulling Yuuri down to lie flush against his chest. 

Yuuri brushed Victor’s bangs away from his eyes. “Hey,” Yuuri replied. 

They stayed like that, just holding and looking at one another, for several long seconds. Yuuri took the hand that wasn’t supporting his head and splayed his fingers wide against Victor’s chest to feel the comforting rhythm of his beating heart. Victor covered it with his own, tracing light patterns into the skin on the back of Yuuri’s hand. 

It was Victor who finally broke the silence. “Can I take you out tomorrow?”

Yuuri smiled sweetly down at him, his heart singing in his chest. “Are you asking me on a date?”

A light dusting of pink spread across Victor’s cheeks. “Yes, is that okay?”

Was Victor nervous? Yuuri pressed his palm more firmly into his chest and felt a faster pulse than before. It matched the one in his own body. He pressed his lips firmly to Victor’s for a brief moment. “Yes,” he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are y’all still with me?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the time has come  
> Everything up 'til yesterday was a prologue  
> -Sparkle, Radwimps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG your reactions to that last chapter were amazing! I seriously treasure every comment.

**_May 12th, 2012_ **

"Mmmmm," Yuuri moaned, dragging his hand across his face. 

His skin was burning, the air entering his lungs was stifling. Hot, so hot. Why was he so _hot_? He thrashed his legs trying and failing to remove the sheet tangled around them. Something next to him grunted and started dragging him back into the hot heap he was so desperately trying to escape. 

"Too hot," Yuuri moaned. "Victor, you're so hot."

Victor snorted sleepily next to him. "Mmmm you are."

"Victorrrr!" Yuuri whined as the solid lump of heat next to him pulled him even closer. 

Victor nuzzled his face into Yuuri’s neck, his hot breath doing nothing to calm Yuuri in his frantic half-asleep state. After several more moments of scrambling, Yuuri was finally released form the confines of Victor’s arms. The deciding factor was probably the elbow that Yuuri had jammed into Victor’s ribs.

"Open the window some more," Victor sighed as he shoved the sheets off the foot of the bed. 

Yuuri did as he was told. He paused, still sitting up on his knees as cool breeze swept across his skin. His breathing came easier as his core temperature slowly dropped to a reasonable level. 

“Better?” Victor asked with a huff.

Yuuri nodded.

”Good, now sleep,” Victor said as he coaxed Yuuri down onto his chest again. 

Yuuri wrinkled his nose with a smile. ”Your shirt is wet."

Victor removed it with a sigh, and tossed it to the floor as well. Yuuri hummed in sleepy satisfaction as he brought his face to rest on Victor's chest again. "So hot," he whined again, more quietly and with much less protest this time. 

The breeze continued to caress his skin, allowing Yuuri to drift further into his sleepy state. He was only peripherally aware of Victor’s fingers sweeping his damp bangs off of his forehead and of the kiss pressed there after. Yuuri tightened his arm across Victor’s chest as he released a satisfied sigh.

Yuuri was much more comfortable the next time his eyes opened. His cheek was still planted against Victor's chest, near his shoulder, but the heat of the skin on skin contact was comforting rather than stifling. He stayed like this for a while, unmoving, content to just watch the rise and fall of Victor’s chest and the subtle muscle twitches in his arms. 

The sun was beginning to rise higher in the morning sky now. Yuuri didn’t want to look at the clock behind him, but based on how he was feeling it was likely nearing seven. His alarm would be going off soon to get ready for the rink time Yuuri had booked for them. Yuuri lifted his head from Victor’s chest, moving as slowly and silently as he could in hopes of spending a few more moments contemplating the sight before him. 

Unlike when he had woken up following the Grand Prix final, the space between Victor's eyebrows was smooth and his face looked at peace. The hand that Yuuri had resting on his stomach rose and fell evenly with each of Victor's deep inhales and exhales. He removed it to brush Victor's bangs away from his still-closed eyes.

Yuuri smiled. There was one other important difference between this morning and the morning after the Grand Prix. He ran his thumb lightly under Victor's lower lip, as he had done in December, but this time he leaned forward and pressed his own lightly against them. Victor's face twitched slightly. Yuuri kissed him again, just as lightly as the first time. 

"Mmmmm," Victor sighed. 

His eyes fluttered open slowly, bright blue and squinting in the morning sunlight. His lips moved against Yuuri's the next time and his hand eventually moved to touch Yuuri's cheek. Of all of the ways Victor touched him, this had always been his favorite. Yuuri loved feeling the warmth of Victor’s palm on his face, loved the light tickle of Victor’s thumb moving across his cheekbone. 

"Morning," Victor managed between kisses. "Am I still too hot for you?" he smirked.

Yuuri blushed because the answer to that question was yes, absolutely yes. But instead, he just lightly shushed Victor with another, deeper press of his lips. God he loved being able to do this, and Victor seemed perfectly content to let him. 

Kissing Victor was like…well there wasn’t really a way to describe it really. Maybe it was the fact that kissing was a new experience for Yuuri. Maybe it was because it was Victor and everything with Victor felt different, more meaningful, than with anyone else. Or maybe it was the fact that kissing was generally something you did with one person at a time, meaning that Yuuri could do something with Victor, _to_ Victor, that no one else could. Victor was sharing something with Yuuri and only Yuuri. 

_For now,_ his incredibly helpful brain supplied. He crushed the thought by kissing Victor with a bit more urgency, drawing a surprised gasp from the lips below his.

Yuuri let his finger tips explore down the expanse of Victor's bare chest, loving the ripple of goosebumps left in their wake against the otherwise flawless pale skin. Emboldened, he began tracing the definition lines on Victor's abs. They weren’t as sharp or harsh as Sports Illustrated photoshopped them to look - like they were chiseled out of stone - but Yuuri didn’t mind in the slightest.

He was allowed to reach the soft ‘v’ of one of Victor's hips before a hand grasped his wrist. Victor threaded their fingers together and kissed Yuuri's knuckles. 

"Did you still want to go to the rink this morning?" Victor asked, only a little out of breath.

Yuuri suppressed his pout and instead nodded just as his phone alarm chimed from his desk. “Breakfast first?” he asked, sliding his feet reluctantly to the floor. 

“Yes, please,” Victor said, retrieving his own phone from the night stand. 

“There’s a nice coffee and smoothie shop around the corner from the rink. It’s where I usually stop on Saturdays,” Yuuri explained as he gathered a few things into his skating bag.

“Great,” Victor said, stretching his arms above his head. 

Yuuri took a few short seconds to appreciate the rippling of Victor’s muscles before he forced himself to retreat to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change. When he emerged a few minutes later, Victor had already changed and was making the bed. 

“You know, it wouldn’t get so warm if you invested in some better quality sheets,” he commented, rubbing the material between his fingers. 

Yuuri walked up behind Victor and threaded his arms around his waist. He could also find a boyfriend that wasn’t secretly a space heater in disguise, he thought. He blushed and bit the words back, as he pressed his cheek firmly into Victor’s back. “We can go shopping later.”

“Remember, I’m taking you out later. You agreed to go on a date with me, if I’m remembering correctly,” Victor teased lightly as he maneuvered their bodies so they were standing chest to chest. 

“Of course,” Yuuri smiled. 

Victor returned the smile and pressed a kiss to the tip of Yuuri’s nose. “So, you said something about breakfast?”

xXx

While Yuuri would have liked to have spent the whole morning just watching Victor skate, or better yet, skating old routines with Victor, the reality was that they both had an off-season schedule to stick to. Celestino arrived while Yuuri was working into his spins and Victor his compulsory figures. Yuuri had informed his coach that Victor would be coming to visit and had received the ‘okay’ to bring Victor along to share his private rink time. 

His coach’s face was hard to read as he observed the pair of them, each keeping to his own side of the rink. As usual, Yuuri skated over to meet Celestino after he felt sufficiently warmed up. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking at Yuuri with a bemused smile. “You seem…different today, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shrugged. “You’re usually a lot more…stiff when you share the rink,” Celestino observed.

Yuuri blushed. He knew Celestino was asking something, the answer to which was was that Yuuri felt at ease with Victor on the ice - like he belonged there with him. Yuuri didn’t feel like that with any of his other rink mates, former or current. Yuuko and Takeshi were close, but Yuuri still held back around them, was slightly more on edge than when he was skating alone. 

“What are we working on today?” he asked instead, taking a drink from his water bottle.

The sharp sounds from the other end of the rink indicated that Victor had begun working on his jumps. Celestino tore his eyes away from Victor and pulled out a small MP3 player. “These are some ideas I had for short program music. Why don’t you do some more figures and step sequences while listening and see if any stand out to you.”

Yuuri nodded and clipped the device to the inside of his pocket, stringing the headphones under his shirt to keep the wires out of the way. He couldn’t help but wonder what pieces Victor was going to choose for his programs. Victor said he always had some say in the final selections, but this was going to be his first year with complete control - except for the free program at Worlds of course. 

At one point, Victor had even mentioned getting a song written just for him. What would it be like to skate to a song written for you? Yuuri imagined it would be quite a nice feeling to take the ice knowing that no one else had ever, and probably would ever, skate to the song but you. Maybe, some day, he would get to a place where that was a reality for him. But, for now, he had Celestino’s playlist and expert guidance to work with.

xXx

Their session ended at ten thirty and Victor had suggested that they go for a cool-down run around campus after getting back to Yuuri’s dorm. Victor matched the pace that Yuuri set, which was one that allowed for some short bursts of conversation. Yuuri pointed out infamous campus landmarks and the buildings where he had classes. 

“I think it’s really great that you get to do this, Yuuri,” Victor panted as they passed the performance arts center for the third time.

“Sometimes I’m not sure what I was thinking,” (they parted ways to allow a cyclist through), “but I think I like it? I was hesitant at first - I always struggled in school - but they told me I could study dance,” Yuuri took a few moments to fill his lungs, “and I decided to give it a shot.”

They rounded the corner and Yuuri’s dorm came back into view on the horizon - about a quarter mile away now. “Not sure what I would have studied if I went,” Victor said, “Maybe a language? Literature?”

“Why didn’t you?” Yuuri asked.

Yuuri saw Victor shrug out of the corner of his eye. “No time, and I don’t do well teaching myself things - aside from skating of course,” he smiled. “Even with a tutor growing up I had issues. I enjoy the more interactive classroom setting, you know? But, I obviously don’t have time for that. Not that I’m saying you do - aha umm,” Victor laughed nervously. “Your studies probably help your career a lot. You also have a lot more focus than I do.”

“I doubt that,” Yuuri huffed. 

“I mean it, Yuuri. It’s amazing you’re able to handle all of this.”

“We’ll see how next season goes with more competitions added.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great.”

They slowed to a stop in the grass covered courtyard outside of Yuuri’s building and did their final round of stretches. Yuuri desperately needed a shower. And lunch, his stomach reminded him. 

“Victor?” 

“Hmm?” Victor replied, the noise muffled by the grass in his straddle fold.

“What’s the plan for, well _later_?” Yuuri asked as he pushed lightly on Victor’s back. 

“You mean for our date?” Victor said, a note of happiness in his voice. Yuuri made a noise of confirmation. “I was thinking we’d head out at six or so?”

“What are we doing?”

“That’s a surprise,” Victor said, smiling back over his shoulder. Victor pulled at Yuuri’s arms so they were flush, chest to back. 

“Victor! Gross, we’re so….gross,” Yuuri squirmed at all the dampness between them. 

Victor’s body rumbled with a laugh as he kissed Yuuri’s forearm. “Let’s go inside then.”

xXx

Apparently Victor was quite serious about the date being a surprise. Yuuri had expected Victor to keep their destination and activities under wraps (and was actually excited to let him do so), but he had not expected Victor to take it to _this_ level.

One minute, they were laughing about some training technique Iosef kept trying (and failing) to get Victor and his rink mates to do. The next minute, Victor had Yuuri’s door open, carrying a bundle of clothing and his bathroom kit in his arms. 

“Where are you going?" Yuuri asked, taken slightly aback, holding two dress shirts limply in his hands. 

"To get ready.”

"You can do that here, you know,” Yuuri laughed, throwing one of the shirts back into his closet.

Victor smiled and walked a bit closer to Yuuri. "Where's the mystery and romance in that, Yuuri?" 

Victor brought a finger to his lips as he stared into Yuuri’s closet. Yuuri shifted his weight back between his feet in embarrassment. He did not have the most expansive or neat closet in the world, mostly preferring casual attire. He was about to make some excuse - how he’d been meaning to do some summer shopping or something - when Victor plucked a hanger off the rack and pushed it against Yuuri’s chest. 

“This one - and I’ll pick you up at six, okay?"

"Pick me up." Yuuri stated. 

“Yes,” Victor waved, “this is a date after all. And I believe I asked you out. Oh! that reminds me,” Victor swooped over to Yuuri’s desk to grab his keys, “I also get to drive.”

"Completely unnecessary," Yuuri huffed. 

"I want this to be perfect," Victor moved to plant a quick kiss on his lips, his expression soft. "See you at 6."

Yuuri stood there for several long seconds after the door shut behind Victor, wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into. His phone buzzed lightly on his dresser. 

**[Victor, 17:07]:** Can’t wait to see you! ♡♡♡

Yuuri eventually understood why Victor chose to do this. Though he knew Victor was just down the hall in Mitch's room, the anticipation of seeing him again was steadily mounting. It was as if Yuuri was back in the airport waiting to catch the first glimpse of Victor's face. His stomach was fluttering as he dug his dress belt out of the depths of his closet.

Yuuri stood in front of the mirror, carefully picking all traces of lint from his shirt. He drew in a deep breath as he pulled his hair away from his face experimentally. With a hum of satisfaction, he distributed some product through it. He cocked his head in surprise after sliding his glasses on - they actually didn’t look half bad, Yuuri thought. Perhaps he’d have to wear his hair like this more often. 

He ran his hands down his chest, smoothing out any fine lines and bunches that had worked their way into the deep teal fabric. His hands shook slightly in excitement and nerves. He drew in a deep breath, remembering the way Victor’s heart felt under his palm last night, waiting for Yuuri to accept or reject his offer for the date.

There was a light knock on the door. He opened it with a huff, preparing to tease Victor (just a little bit) about his level of ridiculousness, but his words caught in his throat at the sight before him. 

Because there was Victor, standing in the exact center of the doorway looking absolutely perfect. Knowing that Victor was there for _him_ , had spent time getting ready to see _him_ , took his breath away. Victor smiled and held out a small bouquet flowers. 

Yuuri accepted the flowers mutely, fingering the burlap ribbon with a smile. He realized that they had come from one of the local seller stands that was set up every Saturday on the campus square for the farmer’s market. Yuuri had actually sent one of their dried bouquets to Victor after Worlds, and wondered if Victor had recognized the name. 

It was not the first time he had received flowers from Victor - the daisies were a call back to the first flowers they had ever exchanged. But the daisies in this bouquet were tiny and delicate, and they were dispersed among the wild baby roses - peach, nearly the same color as Victor’s shirt. He fingered the petals delicately, appreciating the thought that Victor had obviously put into searching out the arrangement. He looked back up at Victor with a smile tugging at his lips.

“You look incredible, Yuuri,” Victor said as he leaned in to plant a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek. 

Victor’s face lingered next to his and Yuuri could feel warm finger tips lightly tipping his chin upwards. He watched Victor’s bright eyes sparkle and drop to his lips just before planting the slightest, softest kiss against them. 

“Are you ready to go?”

Yuuri’s lips parted in awe at the sight of Victor before him, his brain still struggling to function after that kiss. The reality of the evening was finally, truly sinking in. And, holy hell, he was not prepared for this. 

He swallowed down the little moisture left in his mouth as he nodded. “Good,” Victor smiled, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

Yuuri’s breath caught in his chest as Victor laced their fingers together. Would he ever get used to this, he wondered, glancing sideways at Victor as they walked out of the suite. Victor turned to him and smiled, and he found himself hoping that he never would. 

Victor unlocked Yuuri’s car as they approached it in the garage. The thought of someone else driving his car made Yuuri slightly uncomfortable, but he tried his best to squash these feelings back as he slid into the passenger’s seat next. Victor spent a few moments adjusting the seat and mirror settings, with only a few teasing comments about Yuuri’s small stature, which Yuuri accepted in good nature. Truth be told, Yuuri liked being shorter than Victor. He liked reaching up to wrap his arms around Victor’s neck, liked being the one that Victor had to bend down to kiss.

Victor punched an unfamiliar address into the GPS, which announced that it would take twenty minutes to arrive in the current traffic conditions. Victor rested his free hand palm up on the center arm rest. Yuuri took it in his and they passed time flipping through the radio stations and singing (badly) to any songs they recognized.

They pulled up in front of a small establishment lit by tiny icicle lights. Victor raced around to Yuuri’s side of the car (gracefully tripping on the lip of the sidewalk) as Yuuri rummaged through his glove compartment for his valet key. He accepted Victor’s hand as he got out of the car and watched (with only mild heartburn) as Victor handed the valet key and small tip to the curbside staff. 

Victor ushered him inside with a light, steady pressure against the small of his back. “Victor, this place…” Yuuri trailed off, as he recognized the name laser etched into the glass doors.

“This is the one you were talking about a few months ago, right?” Victor asked as they progressed through the second set of doors. 

“Yes, but - Victor you need reservations to eat here at this time. The wait is probably going to be _hours_ ,” Yuuri said, his stomach whining lightly.

Back in January, a local TV station was airing a series highlighting new restaurants in the area. Yuuri and Mitch had been tuning in to each episode in order to help Mitch plan the most romantic Valentine’s date ever with his partner, Dan. They took notes, did extensive Google searching, and read every single Yelp review while creating a flawless pros and cons list for each place. 

While all of the eateries looked promising, one in particular stood out to Yuuri. He tried incredibly hard to convince Mitch to choose it, mostly so he could have a first hand review…or maybe in hopes that some leftovers would come home that would go mysteriously missing. To is dismay, Mitch had declared that tapas cuisine was ‘not his style’. Yuuri ranted on the phone to Victor (several times) about Mitch’s poor decision making.

Victor smiled as they weaved through the sizable crowd holding sleek pager squares and spare menus, finally arriving at the host station. “Hi - reservation under Nikiforov,” he said when they were greeted. 

“Ah yes, Nikiforov - for two, correct?”

Yuuri blinked. He had to be dreaming. 

Victor nodded. The host bit his lip as he looked down at the seating chart. “I’m so sorry, it might be a few minutes until we have your table ready.”

Victor waved his hand and hugged Yuuri closer to his side. “It’s fine, really.”

They walked over to the side of the cramped room. “What’s wrong, Yuuri?” Victor asked, squeezing his side gently. 

Yuuri shook himself out of his silence. “How did you get a reservation?” he asked. “Everyone says you need to call weeks in advance to get a table.”

Victor blushed. 

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Yuuri sighed. So Victor had been planning this much longer than just last night. “When?” he asked, bringing his eyes to meet Victor’s.

“Right after Worlds.”

“Oh,” was all Yuuri could manage, realizing that Victor must have booked it right after talking to Yuuri about visiting, possibly even before. 

“It was part of my grand plan to woo you…but you kind of beat me to it,” Victor chuckled, rubbing his thumb over Yuuri’s hip bone.

“S-sorry,” Yuuri blushed.

“Don’t be,” Victor smiled, carefully avoiding Yuuri’s glasses as he kissed his cheek. “I liked your method of surprise seduction much better.”

Yuuri was leaning up for a proper kiss, after which he was going to ask Victor what exactly he had been planning, when the host appeared in front of them. “Mr. Nikiforov - we have your table ready.”

They followed a waiter to the back of the restaurant. “We are so sorry, Mr. Nikiforov - the table you had requested is being occupied longer than we expected. The couple is lingering - they just got engaged and, well, we don’t really have the heart to ask them to move.”

“We’ll be fine,” Victor assured him once more.

“It’s a bit small, but the two of you look quite cozy,” the waiter said as he waited for them to situate themselves in the small half circle booth. 

“More secluded too. It’s perfect, don’t you think?” Victor asked, looking at Yuuri. 

Yuuri quickly agreed, earning him a wide smile from Victor and a sigh of relief from their waiter. It really was a cozy fit, but cozy in the most truly comfortable way. There was enough space that the table didn’t feel crowded with tableware, and close enough for Victor to drape his arm casually around Yuuri’s back. 

Not to mention the general atmosphere of the place which just radiated romance. The lighting was soft a low, provided by the same icicle lights cradled gently in sheets of glittering tulle arcs pinned to the ceiling above each booth or table.  
?  
“Have you done tapas before, Yuuri?” Victor asked as he unfolded a menu between them. 

Yuuri shook his head, he knew how tapas cuisine worked obviously, from watching the review on TV (and hours and hours of Google research), but that didn’t stop him from being a bit overwhelmed by the length of the menu. The plates are purposefully small with only four or so pieces of food, and were meant for sharing. You just ordered a few things at a time throughout the course of the meal.

They spent the next few minutes pointing out which starters they each found appealing, and Yuuri smiled upon realizing how much of a foodie Victor was. Victor did not deny the accusation, saying that it was one of his favorite parts of international skating. Yuuri had to admit that he was usually too nervous to eat or really enjoy anything at competitions, and Victor promised that he could change that over the next few years. 

Victor put in their first order (a meat and cheese plate) before turning his attention to Yuuri. “Well, now this is the part of the date where we usually make small talk and ask each other about what we do for a living, where we grew up,” Victor smiled.

“But we already know all of that stuff,” Yuuri said, in a slight panic. What were you supposed to talk about on a date with your best friend? 

Victor gave a dramatic sigh and draped his arm around Yuuri’s back. “I know, it’s a relief right? Though, I really wouldn’t mind talking about Makka, or hearing about Vicchan.”

Yuuri laughed, relaxing immediately back into Victor’s hold. “Mari just sent me a picture of Vicchan,” he remembered. 

He pulled out his phone and scrolled over to the text string. He maximized the image of Vicchan showing off his new summer harness. 

“Cute!” Victor said, pulling out his own phone. “My parents sent me a few of Makka this morning.”

Yuuri leaned in further to see Makkachin curled up on what he recognized as Victor’s childhood bed. “Are they watching her for the week?” he asked, swiping to the next photo.

Victor nodded. “They don’t spoil her quite like I do though,” he mused. “But they are willing to dog-sit whenever I have competitions so…”

“Why did you decide to move out?” Yuuri asked. It sounded like it would be much easier to have stayed at home, not to mention it would save some money. Not that Victor had problems with that, he reminded himself.

Victor shrugged. “I wanted some independence. I also keep some odd training hours, and I rarely eat meals at the same time every day, which honestly would drive my mother crazy if I was at home.”

Their first course arrived, and they spent a few moments savoring the initial bites. It was everything Yuuri had been hoping for, he realized as the soft cheese melted against his tongue. 

“How about you? Are you going to stay in the dorms or get your own place?” Victor asked between bites.

Yuuri sampled a thin slice of meat next. “I’m not sure. Getting my own place would be less expensive, and I wouldn’t mind living closer to the rink. But…I’m not sure I would want to live alone I guess. I mean, I’m not the most social person and I love having my own space, but I’m not sure I could stand knowing there was no one else around.”

“Yeah, it can get really lonely.”

Yuuri noted the tone of Victor’s voice and squeezed his knee lightly. Victor offered him a weak smile. “But I have Makka, so it helps,” he said, spreading the crumbly blue cheese onto a baguette square. “Mmm, Yuuri! Try this,” he said, offering out another prepared cube between his fingers. 

Yuuri moved to take it, but Victor swatted his hand away, instead bringing the morsel up to Yuuri’s lips. “It’s a date, indulge me,” Victor winked. 

“O-okay,” Yuuri blushed. 

He leaned forward and parted his lips for Victor to feed him. “Mmmm,” he agreed as Victor flicked away a few crumbs from his chin. 

Victor smiled and kissed him lightly when he was done chewing. “Vkusno?” he asked. 

“Vkusno,” Yuuri agreed.

During dessert, Yuuri caught Victor staring at him as if deeply lost in thought. “What is it?” Yuuri finally asked between bites of berries and cream.

Victor’s smile deepened. “I’m just…” he paused and captured Yuuri’s free hand in both of his. His cheeks took on a light rose hue as he met Yuuri’s eyes. “I’m just really happy that you feel this way. About us, I mean.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile as he brought a cream covered raspberry to meet Victor’s lips. “Me too,” he said simply as Victor accepted his offering. He could tell that Victor wasn’t quite done with what he had to say, but Yuuri had to confirm the feeling was mutual (and make sure he wasn’t the only one eating their dessert).

“I think I’ve felt this way for a while now, though I can’t say when it started, exactly,” Victor continued, lightly massaging the muscles of Yuuri’s hand, working his was from wrist to finger tips.

Yuuri’s heart fluttered as he clung desperately to every single word that Victor was saying. He had spent months in his own head, wondering, agonizing, dreaming about what Victor was thinking and feeling. Nothing could compare to actually hearing those feelings expressed as words, from the source.

“I’ve always felt that there was a connection between us, obviously, we’ve stayed friends over thousands of miles for, what, ten years?”

“Thirteen, almost,” Yuuri said softly.

“There are plenty of other people who have been in my life for that long, or longer even, that still don’t really get me like you do. I tried talking to other people about coming back from my injury and what I wanted for my career, but even my partners at the time, didn’t really seem to care - not the way that you always have.

“Then, I started really noticing certain…things…about you,” Victor blushed, “especially the way you looked at me. I spent a while trying to convince myself that it was just me reading too much into things, that it was just me being too caught up in you. That you were just trying to be there for me as a friend. That I was getting way too emotional about things.

“I tried to explain away all the almost kisses as just being in my head, despite how obvious it was looking back on it,” Victor laughed. 

“But then, what you said at the train station - that you had been thinking about it too - god, Yuuri, I can’t even tell you how hearing those words made me feel.”

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to blush. “I er…well, at the train station,” he starts, knowing that he had to come clean to Victor about this less be consumed by guilt for the rest of his life, “I actually, at the time, thought we were talking about your retirement.”

Victor deadpanned, and Yuuri feared that he had just completely ruined the atmosphere, the delicacy of Victor’s heartfelt confession.

“Oh…you thought…and then I…” Victor brought his hands up to cover his face. “Oh Yuuri, I feel like…” Victor’s words dissolved into a string of Russian murmurs.

Yuuri laughed lightly beside him as tugged lightly at Victor’s wrists, wanting to draw him quickly off of that downward spiral. He planted a kiss to each of Victor’s palms before holding them on his lap again. 

“Don’t, Victor. The conversation did have me confused for a bit, I admit, but the kiss eventually got me thinking,” he sighed, “and I want you to know that what I said was still true, no matter which topic we were talking about.”

Victor glanced back up at him. “So when you said you’d wait for me, that you’d stay with me, even if…?”

Yuuri nodded and bit his lip. “Yeah, I would have been fine if you had decided that you didn’t want anything, but I’m…”

Victor cut him off with a soft kiss. Yuuri stole several more to finish his sentence physically, knowing that no words could ever convey how happy he was that Victor chose this path with him. 

Eventually, the waiter came by with their check, and they headed back for the evening.

"I had a really nice time tonight, Yuuri," Victor said as they approached Yuuri’s dorm room, joining his hands at the small of Yuuri’s back. 

"Me too,” Yuuri agreed. “I - it was really....thank you," he finally settled on, his brain to scattered to function. It was funny, he thought, they had already kissed quite a few times, but he was still fluttering with anticipation for the infamous Goodnight Kiss. 

"We should do this again," Victor smiled as he stepped a foot between Yuuri’s.

"I have symphony tickets for Tuesday if you're interested," Yuuri smiled up at him. 

Victor laughed lightly as he brought a hand to Yuuri's cheek. “Mmmm, so that means I get a second date?”

Yuuri let out small laugh. “If you want one.”

“Of course I do, Yuuri,” Victor said softly. 

Victor bowed his head slightly as he tipped Yuuri’s chin up. Yuuri let out a satisfied sigh as their lips finally touched. He closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms up around Victor's neck. They stood there for a minute or two, lazily kissing before they parted. 

"Want to come inside?" Yuuri half joked, playing up their date facade. 

"Yes," Victor smiled brightly.

Yuuri's wrist was stilled on the door knob by Victor's hand. He looked back at him questioningly. Victor drew in a deep breath. "I know we've known each other for a long time,” Victor started, “but I want us to take our time with this. It's new for you, new for us. And I..." his voice trailed off and Yuuri could detect a faint blush on his cheeks. "You're special to me,Yuuri. We don't have to rush this, right?"

Something in Victor’s request made Yuuri's breath catch in his chest. He nodded. "Yes, I'd like that."

“Also, I never put out on first dates anyway. It's a rather tragic rule," Victor winked. 

Yuuri laughed in surprise at the sudden change in conversational tone. In that one action, he realized, Victor had made talking about this - the physical, sexual side of their relationship - seem approachable and easy. 

Yuuri bit his lip and dropped his focus to Victor’s matte black shoes. He knew now that it was okay to ask his next question, but it didn’t make phrasing it or physically saying it any easier. "Umm...I'd really like to do some things this week though, if that's okay. I mean not well... _sex_ sex yet, but...." he trailed off. 

Victor tilted his chin up again so their eyes locked. "Of course. We’ll see how things go,” he said in promise. "Now let’s go inside so I can kiss you properly,” he said, completing Yuuri’s task of opening the door.

Though Yuuri was now firmly sandwiched between Victor’s chest and the wall, the kiss remained deep and slow. Indulgent. Victor’s tongue was exploring his mouth almost lazily, as if trying to memorize everything, every moment of this kiss. Victor finally pulled away, leaving both of them slightly breathless.

“I could kiss you for hours, days maybe,” Victor breathed, brushing Yuuri’s hair away from his eyes. 

“Then why’d you stop,” Yuuri smirked, fingers playing with the baby soft hairs at the nape of Victor’s neck. 

Victor laughed and brought their foreheads to touch. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Yuuri Katsuki?”

Yuuri felt his face flush, knowing he could easily ask Victor the same question. “You let me braid your hair,” he finally said, carding his fingers through Victor’s bangs. 

“Do you miss it?” Victor asked, bringing his eyes to meet Yuuri’s.

Yuuri bit his lip and shook his head. “No, but sometimes…I um, imagine pulling it…”

Victor let out a surprised sound. “Mmmmm, I might have to grow it out again,” he said, kissing Yuuri lightly.

“Sounds like it would take a while,” Yuuri replied, happily kissing Victor back more deeply this time.

But Victor pulled them apart again. “Would that be okay?” he asked, running the pad of his thumb under Yuuri’s swollen bottom lip. “Not the hair part - I think I’m done with that part of my life. But…are you okay with us? Like this?”

Yuuri’s heart melted and he couldn’t help but smile at how endearing Victor looked at that moment. This was not the first time that Victor has asked him to confirm that he was in this, that he wanted Victor for more than just this week. Yuuri was so incredibly happy, happier than he had ever been in his life, so it was easy to keep confirming Victor’s ask. 

“Yes…I want this - everything - with you,” he confessed in a whisper. 

Victor choked on a sigh before bringing their lips back together. If Yuuri had known better, had had more experience, he would have recognized the weight and implications of his confession. But he didn’t - all he knew was Victor, and how every single moment they spent together was absolutely beautiful.

**_May 15th, 2012_ **

The symphony performance had been one of the best Yuuri had been to. The selections had complemented each other perfectly, leading the audience through a deeply emotional experience. There were empowering string movements and intricately delicate woodwind segments, both equally keeping Yuuri on the edge of his seat. 

“We can’t just go back after that,” he told Victor immediately after the final bows. His body felt so alive. “Let’s go do something.”

Victor agreed with an amused smile and Yuuri’s first instinct was to pull up the rink’s iCal. “It’s booked - the ice - set-up for some event tomorrow,” he explained, as he quickly swiped over to the next saved calendar. Yuuri smiled as he quickly filled out a reservation form. “Studio’s open.”

“Yuuri what,” he laughed as Yuuri tugged him along to the parking lot. “what has gotten into you?”

They made a quick stop back at the dorms to change and grab some gear, arriving at the studio just as the sun was setting. Yuuri expertly navigated them through the key card doors, all the way to a door at the end of the back hallway. “No one ever comes to this one because it’s so out of the way,” he said, flashing his ID over the card reader.

Yuuri flicked the switches on his right and set down his bag by the front mirror as the lights slowly came to life. He took his time going through his warm up stretches, despite the electricity and inspiration coursing through him. It had been a while since Yuuri had felt this inspired to dance. He glanced over at Victor, who was sitting with his legs crossed, just watching Yuuri. 

“A-aren’t you going to join me?” Yuuri asked as he hopped to his feet.

Victor paused and then shook his head. “I think I’ll just watch. You’re the professional after all.”

Yuuri blushed and opened his mouth to remind Victor that, he wasn’t really, and not to get his hopes up too high…but Victor was too fast. “Can you show me what you did for your last recital? For Minako’s studio I mean,” Victor asked with a soft smile. 

Yuuri nodded and opened the music app on his phone. He handed it to Victor, telling him to tap play once he got settled.This room was just about the same size as Minako’s main room, which is part of the reason why Yuuri claimed it as his favorite on campus. The other was the privacy. As Yuuri had said, no one bothered coming this far into the maze of practice rooms - the calendar was always free for him book time, and no one ever stuck their noses to the small window. 

Though practicing and performing with the theater group had made Yuuri grow more comfortable with dancing in front of others in informal settings, he still preferred to be alone. Victor was, and always had been, the exception to this rule. He wanted to watch Yuuri dance, he had asked. So, Yuuri would always agree, would always dance for Victor.

He went over the steps quickly in his head as he took a few final stretches at the barre. It had been a while since he last danced this particular choreography, but it had been one he spent a long time practicing and found oddly comforting. Perhaps someday he would adapt it for the ice. 

Yuuri finally nodded to Victor to start the music and allowed himself to get swept away in the movements. He remembered most of it, and he was so familiar with the music and so inspired by the evening’s performance that it was easy to improvise through the fuzzy areas. His theme had been chaotic transformation - Yuuri lived, died, and was reborn in a handful of minutes. 

The movements built into a rather interesting final pose. As part of the rebirth, Yuuri slowly rebuilt himself from a prone posture, his stomach flush with the floor. As the rhythms started to build once more, he pulled himself onto his forearms. Then, in a slow yet fluid motion, he lifted his legs above his head. He arched his back, allowing his pointed toes to make contact with the crown of his head just as the last chord rang out.

Yuuri was a scorpion. A balance of the defensive and reckless sides of nature.

Yuuri looked back at Victor after releasing himself slowly from the pose. His eyes were fixated on Yuuri. His cheeks were pink. “Beautiful,” he murmured. 

Yuuri blushed as he scooted across the floor to join Victor. He was quickly pulled onto Victor’s lap, his knees landing on either side of his hips. “Just…amazing,” Victor smiled up at him, kneading his finger tips into the tops of Yuuri’s thighs. 

The pressure felt amazing on his tired muscles and Yuuri let himself melt fully into Victor. He laid his head onto Victor’s shoulder as he continued to let his breathing even out. He closed his eyes, marveling at how easy it would be to just fall asleep right there.

“Sometimes I feel guilty,” Victor sighed.

What a strange thing to say, Yuuri thought. “Why?”

Victor’s hands started working their way up and down his back, rubbing lightly at the tissues near his shoulder blades. “I want the whole world to see what I just saw. And somehow I managed to convince you to limit yourself to skating,” he breathed. 

Yuuri stiffened a bit - it hadn’t been what he was expecting. He was sure that Victor looked just as good, just as beautiful, if not more-so, dancing across the ice as Yuuri had just looked. But, apparently, Yuuri lacked the ability to convey the same beauty on his skates. “I - I’ll try to bring it to the ice with me,” he sighed. _I’ll try harder,_ he amended mentally. 

“Then, you’ll be unstoppable,” Victor smiled, lifting Yuuri’s face to meet his lips in a kiss. 

Victor was soon pulling hungrily at his lips, the need behind the action caught Yuuri off guard. It was not something he was expecting after the routine he had performed - the intensity would have been more appropriate following a pole dance. Though, he mused, scorpions were known to dance to attract their mates. He smiled into Victor’s mouth, letting his lips part for Victor’s tongue. 

Yuuri’s thighs narrowed, hugging Victor more tightly between them. Victor planted one hand behind him on the ground for support as Yuuri continued to melt into his body. He dragged his palms down the warm expanse of Victor’s chest, eventually slipping them under Victor’s shirt, caressing the soft skin up to his collarbone before reversing their path. 

Victor gasped, breaking the kiss, as one of Yuuri’s fingers brushed over his nipple. Yuuri seized the opportunity to kiss down the length of Victor’s neck, sucking lightly at his pulse point. Growing braver by the second, fueled by these soft gasps, Yuuri started to rock his hips gently against Victor. 

Victor whimpered as his body responded in kind, mirroring Yuuri’s movements the best he could from his current position. Yuuri’s mouth eventually fell away from Victor’s delicious neck as they continued generating pleasurable waves of friction together. His cheek landed on Victors shoulder. He turned slightly and bit it softly through the light fabric of the shirt. 

Victor gasped sharply, tugging Yuuri’s hips closer to his, his fingers gripping tightly at the exposed skin. Yuuri rocked harder against him, meeting Victor’s gasp with a soft moan of pleasure. Victor’s hand teased along his waistband, sending a shiver up Yuuri’s spine. 

_”Yes,”_ he whispered fiercely into Victor’s neck, now completely lost. 

He looked down and watched as Victor’s hand curled around the fabric there pulling - 

Something crashed against the studio door, startling Yuuri straight off of Victor’s lap with a yelp. The whirring of a vacuum finally registered in his lust-addled brain as the crash happened again and again, intermittently. Yuuri choked out a laugh as he caught Victor’s own eyes, filled with a mix of fear and relief. 

The cleaners wouldn’t come in, Yuuri knew, the carpeting in the hallway did not extend into the studio so the cleaning staff had no need to come in at the moment. He and Victor would probably be okay, but…

“Let’s go back,” Victor whispered, getting gingerly to his feet.

Yuuri nodded and accepted Victor’s outstretched hand. They gathered their things, still slightly rattled by the interruption. They waited in silence until they were sure the coast was clear (and their bodies had calmed down), and finally headed back to the dorm.

They exchanged a nervous glance when the door closed behind them for the night, their bravado sucked up into the vacuum bag. Yuuri knew he didn’t want that moment to be over, he rather wanted it to continue, but he wasn’t sure how to let Victor know. He also really wanted to shower the layer of sweat off his skin beforehand. 

In the end, Yuuri stepped forward into Victor’s space and kissed him firmly on the lips, spending a few moments thoroughly kissing him to make sure there were no doubts between them. “I’m going to shower,” Yuuri started to explain. “Then you can, well do what you do, and we’ll meet back at the um…in bed.”

Victor laughed lightly. “Yes, okay,” he said, stealing a few more open mouthed kisses from Yuuri’s lips.

Eventually, Yuuri found himself under the warm spray of the shower. Despite his best attempts to prevent it, the hot licks of water were soothing away his previous burst of energy. He seriously contemplated twisting the nozzle to cold, but couldn’t bring himself to submit to that level of unpleasantry.

Yuuri compromised by getting out as quickly as possible and giving himself a very fast towel down, followed by a vigorous brushing of his teeth and combing of his hair. He emerged from the bathroom to find Victor slumped in the desk chair, flipping through something on his phone. He looked up when Yuuri approached, a light smile playing on his lips.

Yuuri considered straddling Victor on the chair, but he wasn’t quite sure he had the stamina to hold that position with such little space. Victor stood a moment later anyway, completely killing the option. He kissed Yuuri and ran his fingers through his wet hair. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Victor said softly, releasing Yuuri to head to the bathroom.

Yuuri flopped down onto his bed and burrowed under the covers. Then he yawned. His eyes started to grow heavy. He shook himself in an attempt to fend off sleep for a little bit longer. 

Yuuri honestly tried his hardest to stay awake as Victor continued to get ready for bed, but after the long day of skating, followed by the emotionally riveting symphony performance, topped off with a late night of ballet had him absolutely spent. He didn’t even notice Victor turn off the lights and slip under the covers with him.

xXx

Yuuri woke with a light whimper, his eyes opening into the lingering darkness. Without his glasses, he could barely make out an oversized red number three on his alarm clock. He let out a quieter, shaky breath. The dream he had been having before he woke up, involved their evening in the ballet studio. Specifically, what was about to happen before they were interrupted. In all honesty, Yuuri should have expected this to happen, should have expected to wake up in this _state_.

He tried to take a few calming breaths and get back to sleep, but in those few moments, he became acutely aware of Victor’s breath hitting his neck, in soft hot bursts. They were the long and slow breaths of someone still in a deep sleep. Normally, he would have just gone back to sleep, but with all of the teasing and tension building and flowing between them…he knew that wasn’t going to be an option.

Yuuri could feel the heat from Victor flowing through his skin and pooling deliciously in his abdomen. His hand reflexively moved to palm himself through his boxer briefs and he stifled his reaction into the pillow below him. No, he was not going to be able to get back to sleep now.

Yuuri let out a long and shaky breath as he allowed himself one more touch, a long stroke of his hand up and then down his clothed cock. His breath caught in his chest, and he knew he should quickly move to the bathroom. It was not uncommon for Yuuri to wake up in this state, though he was always alone. Usually he enjoyed taking his time with it in the morning to explore new sensations…but given current circumstances, he should probably settle for a quick release…and elsewhere. 

Or wait several hours for Victor to wake up. As of a few hours ago, Yuuri knew that Victor certainly wouldn’t be opposed to engaging in those activities with him. But, while the option was appealing, it also sounded very uncomfortable. Further, Yuuri couldn’t be completely convinced that Victor merely breathing on his neck wasn’t enough to bring him over. That would be more awkward to explain than an extended trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Yuuri carefully untangled his legs from Victor’s, trying not to wake him. Yuuri was about to carefully roll himself over the side of the bed when he felt Victor’s slender fingers grasp his hip, stilling his movements. He inhaled sharply as they kneaded into his exposed flesh, dangerously close to the elastic containing his now straining length. Victor sucked hotly at his shoulder moments later, confirming that he was very much awake. 

“Stay,” Victor whispered against his neck, kissing him hotly there. “Do it again?”

Obediently, Yuuri pressed his palm against his cock once more, gasping as Victor bit lightly over his pulse point. Victor whispered a string of incoherent words into the nape of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri repeated the motion, this time not bothering to hold back his moan as he rubbed his hand repeatedly over his clothed cock.

It had been a while since he had done this, but he couldn’t imagine a better scenario to break his dry streak. Victor pressed himself fully along Yuuri’s back, and Yuuri could feel his length long and hard against his tailbone. He gathered every last ounce of his courage and ground his ass back into Victor, who gasped out another string of sounds that could maybe pass for words as he tightened his grip on the curve of Yuuri’s hip, thrusting himself forward to meet the movement. 

It wasn’t long before Yuuri needed more than just the friction of his palm over his boxers. He ran his fingers tentatively under the dark blue elastic, teasing himself, just as Victor had a few hours earlier. He could hear the dull scratch of his finger nails through coarse hair. Victor’s face lifted away from his neck, and he didn’t have to look back to know where those blue eyes were staring. 

Yuuri bit his bottom lip before slipping his entire hand inside of his pants, remembering the confidence he felt when he danced for Victor, both on the pole and on the floor. Victor always made him feel like the only person in the world, like the sexiest, most beautiful person in the universe. 

With this feeling and confidence, he wrapped his fingers lightly around his cock and gave it a few short tugs, another deep moan slipping through his lips. It had the desired effect - Victor’s hard length ground more deeply against him. 

“Yuuri,” he whined, his voice slightly deeper than usual in his hazy state.

“Mmmm,” Yuuri moaned. 

And he looked back at Victor for the first time. If he hadn’t been hard then, he most certainly would have been after seeing the dark glimmer of desire in those deep blue orbs, watching him. After seeing the way those lips were parted just slightly in awe at the sight before him. 

He moved his hand again, pressing his hips back into Victor. Yuuri felt one of Victor’s fingers (finally) slip under the elastic to join his. He felt himself twitch against his palm in anticipation. _Please,_ he almost whined out loud. 

“Off?” Victor asked, locking onto Yuuri’s gaze. 

Yuuri nodded desperately, and between the two of them they managed to remove the offending piece of clothing, discarding it somewhere near the foot of the bed. To Yuuri’s surprise, Victor returned to trailing his finger tips up and down Yuuri’s side. So, Yuuri wrapped his own hand around his straining length once more. 

It wasn’t as awkward as he would have thought, having Victor watch while he pleasured himself. Yuuri thought he might like it even, knowing that he could have this effect on Victor so easily. Interesting. He alternated between fast, short jerks and long slow pulls just as he always liked, paying special attention to the head with his thumb, spreading the milky pearls over it as they were drawn from his body. 

Victor’s thrusting had slowed significantly behind him, but was still there as a steady constant grind. It was clear that the show that Yuuri was giving him held most of his attention now, and Yuuri was going to make sure it was a good one. 

Yuuri dared to look back at Victor once more as he started to feel his impending release coiling more tightly in his abdomen. “Kiss me,” he demanded, the roughness of his own voice surprising him. 

A desperate sound escaped Victor’s lips before he brought them down to Yuuri’s. His tongue immediately grazed Yuuri’s lips, asking - pleading - to be let in. Yuuri let his lips part, moaning deeply and arching back into Victor as their tongues met in a hot embrace. 

It was wet and sloppy. And it was so, so good. 

Yuuri quickened the pace of his hand, his legs starting to quiver. He was so close. So, so close…but then Victor’s fingers clamped around his wrist, leaving him whining in protest against Victor’s lips. Victor loosened his grip as he broke the kiss. 

“Can I…?” Victor asked, finger tips brushing lightly at the V of Yuuri’s abdomen.

Yuuri released himself instantly, not needing the question asked twice, and Victor’s hand immediately took it’s place. Victor rearranged their bodies slightly so that Yuuri was laying flat on his back with Victor half on-top of him. “Want to see,” Victor explained before kissing Yuuri deeply. 

“Please,” Yuuri begged, panting now. 

Victor smiled dangerously at him as he started to move his hand. Yuuri’s spine came clean off of the mattress the first time Victor thumbed over the head of his cock. Victor held him a bit tighter than he was used to (which helped stave off his imminent release), twisted his hand a bit differently, but - oh god was it amazing. Yuuri had never been touched like this by anyone else. The feeling of not knowing exactly what pressure, what movement was coming next was absolutely thrilling. Yuuri was coming completely undone under Victor’s hand. 

“So good,” he panted, turning his face into the crook of Victor’s neck. He planted lazy, open mouth kisses there. 

“You’re so beautiful, my Yuuri,” Victor said, using his nose to nuzzle Yuuri’s face up to look at him. “I could do this forever, listen to you make these sounds for me for an eternity.”

The idea of spending an eternity with Victor’s hand wrapped around his cock, drawing his pleasure on and on, made Yuuri whimper unabashedly. “Please…can you…m’ so close,” Yuuri begged, his toes curling into the sheets. 

Victor’s pace quickened beautifully into exactly what Yuuri needed, and it wasn’t long before he was gasping Victor’s name and spilling himself over Victor’s hand and up onto both of their chests. It was the most intense wave of pleasure Yuuri had ever experienced in his life. Victor talked him down from his bliss, whispering praises and calling him ‘beautiful' and ‘perfect’ and a few other things in Russian that he could not understand.

Yuuri finally opened his eyes after Victor had finished cleaning his pleasure off of their skin. Noticing that he had finally come back down from his high, Victor bent and granted him several short kisses. 

Yuuri finally mustered his strength and a new desire, and rolled Victor over to his back. He wasn’t ready for this to end yet. 

Yuuri straddled him, his spent cock dangling half hard over the bulge in Victor’s briefs. “I-I’ve never, ummm,” Yuuri started as he fingered the red elastic band.

“s’Okay. I can help,” Victor said. “I’d really like that, if you want to, that is.”

Yuuri licked his lips and nodded, his eyes still trained on Victor’s body below him. He had always wondered what Victor looked like, what Victor would feel like in his hand. And now, Yuuri smiled, he would finally know.

Victor sat up, wrapping one hand around Yuuri’s neck, and kissed him. Yuuri slipped his fingers into elastic near each of Victor’s hips, which were soon lifted off of the bed. He sat back briefly in order to completely remove them. Yuuri planted his palms back down against Victor’s hips and spent the next several seconds staring, memorizing every little detail of the magnificent sight beneath him. 

Victor’s hand covered one of his, jolting Yuuri from his daze. Their eyes met and Yuuri was surprised to see that Victor was blushing just as fiercely as he himself probably was. 

“Just…take me in your hand like you took yourself just now. That looked,” Victor bit his lip as a shiver ran through him, “that looked like it felt really, _really_ good.”

Yuuri nodded (because it did feel rather good) as he gripped Victor’s cock in his hand, using his own preferred pressure as he stroked lazily a few times. Victor gasped, and his exhale hit hard and hot against Yuuri’s cheek. 

_“Yes,”_ he sighed. 

“You’ll tell me if there’s anything you really like or want?” Yuuri asked, continuing to stroke over the smooth length.

Victor nodded and kissed Yuuri, licking into his mouth before finally settling back down onto the pillows. Yuuri alternated between watching Victor’s face - his eyes closed, his mouth parted and leaking verbal evidence of how much he was enjoying what Yuuri was doing - and his hand moving along Victor’s length. 

Yuuri loved drawing these noises from Victor, and was pleased with himself that he could evoke these responses despite his lack of experience. Victor looked absolutely amazing beneath him, and Yuuri felt something then that he would not have expected to feel in this situation - a deep gratitude towards Victor for sharing this with him, for sharing his physical self with Yuuri. For allowing Yuuri to see him like this, in his most vulnerable state of passion. For showing Yuuri how much trust was between them.

It was absolutely amazing. 

Victor’s legs were shaking below him, breath coming more quickly and Yuuri picked up the pace, adjusting the angle of his wrist so he could lean over and kiss Victor. He shivered as his cock, nearing its fully hard state again, dragged along Victor’s skin. Victor’s hips bucked up off of the bed as he gasped for air. 

“Yuuri!” he hissed, ripping his lips out of Yuuri’s teeth. “Could you…? Again?” he asked in awe and amazement, stilling Yuuri’s wrist with his hot hand. 

“Dunno,” Yuuri admitted once he figured out what exactly Victor was asking. “Pr-probably?”

And then Victor took both of their cocks in his hand, giving them an experimental tug. “Y-yes,” Yuuri decided as a wave of pure pleasure wracked through his body at the feeling of his own cock rubbing against Victor’s. _“Please.”_

“This would be a bit nicer with…” Victor gasped as he moved his hand a few more times. “Do you have…?”

Victor must have seen Yuuri’s eyes flicker over to his bedside table because his free hand was immediately extracting a small bottle from the drawer. Yuuri whined as Victor temporarily stopped his previous actions. 

“Trust me,” Victor smiled, warming the clear slippery liquid between his palms. 

Yuuri nodded, trying to catch his breath as Victor took a few moments to slick each of their cocks with care. He licked his lips as Victor took his own in his hand, suddenly understanding why Victor had liked watching him do this to himself earlier. He probably could have finished by watching Victor bring himself to a release. But, that was for another time. 

Finally, finally, Victor took them both together in his hand once more.

Yuuri used the rest of his strength to brace himself up over Victor’s body, his arms bracketing Victor’s shoulders as Victor continued to work his hand over them. He looked down and involuntarily ground his hips down lower, fucking himself easily now against Victor’s cock and into his hand. 

“Ngha, ah Yuuri!” Victor gasped. 

He tightened his free hand on Yuuri’s ass and Yuuri watched Victor’s hips stuttered, ropes of white streaming between them again. He flicked his eyes up to watch Victor’s face, his heart jumping at how beautiful Victor looked as he rode out his pleasure.

Yuuri gasped, nearly coming at the sight of it. But what actually sent him over the edge for the second time were the noises that Victor was making in his heightened state of sensitivity as he continued to stroke them together in his hand, hard and fast. 

It took nearly all of the energy Yuuri had left in his reserves to not completely collapse on top of Victor’s chest. The rest he spent reaching into his bedside table drawer to remove a packet of wet wipes he kept there. 

Yuuri took his time wiping their passion from Victor’s abdomen and chest, warming each wipe between his hands before pressing it to the skin beneath him. Halfway through, he became aware that Victor was watching him. Yuuri didn’t stop, though maybe he should have asked instead of just assuming it would be okay to take care of Victor like this - he really was not sure what the protocol for this was. He used two final wipes to clean the remaining lube off of each of their now flaccid cocks, before tossing the pile into the trash can below them.

Victor held up the covers, inviting Yuuri to re-join him underneath. He pulled Yuuri down to his chest, massaging the back of Yuuri’s head with one hand, while the other was laced tightly into one of Yuuri’s. 

“Thank you for…well you know. Not everyone takes the time to actually clean up if they’re not the one who got…”

“Ejaculated on?”

Victor laughed in surprise. “I guess there really isn’t a good way to put it, is there?”

Yuuri shook his head, his own laughter mingling with the echo of Victor’s. 

“That was really, really good,” Yuuri managed after a few moments. 

Something in Victor’s chest purred beneath his cheek. “That’s an understatement, Yuuri.  
That was…fuck,” he swore. 

Yuuri hummed in agreement. “Seriously, Yuuri. I had always hoped that there would be some chemistry between us, but this level is…” Victor’s voice trailed off as he planted a kiss into Yuuri’s hair. “This whole week has been amazing. I really wish it wasn’t going by so quickly.”

“When will I see you again?” Yuuri asked after a minute, scooting himself up to look Victor in the face. 

Victor brushed a few stray hairs away from Yuuri’s eyes. “I-I’m not sure,” he admitted, his face falling a bit. 

Yuuri’s heart dipped in his chest as the reality of their new relationship started to sink in. “We can see what the Grand Prix schedule looks like and go from there?” he suggested. “If not then…”

 _Then what?_ he wondered. 

After the Grand Prix series they would both be heading straight in to Nationals. Then training for Four Continents for Yuuri (hopefully) and Europeans for Victor. Maybe, if the stars aligned, they would meet each other in competition at Worlds, nearly a full year from now.

“Hey,” Victor said touching their noses together. “Distance has never stopped us before, right?”

Yuuri nodded with a half smile. “We’ll make it happen,” Victor assured him with a light kiss. 

Yuuri nodded again, though he knew it was one thing to say long distance would be okay and a completely different one to experience it. But it had always been like this with Victor, he supposed.

“Until then, we have the rest of this week,” Victor continued, lacing his fingers back into Yuuri’s. He smiled deviously, “And more interesting video chats to look forward to.”

“V-victor!” Yuuri stammered. 

Victor chuckled next to him. “Now come here, and let’s get some sleep. Because I am exhausted.”

They curled their arms around each other once more and Yuuri tucked his head under Victor’s chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you are so good to me and I hope to keep bringing you the content you all love and enjoy! Till next time…


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient as I worked out these next couple of chapters! I have a feeling that this fic is going to be a bit longer than I had originally thought, but writing this is bringing me a lot of joy and helping me work through some things (especially this story arc), so I hope you all don't mind!  
> EDIT: Things get a bit stressful at the end of this chapter and chapter 9--- related to the academic anxiety tag. Just an FYI. Things will be resolved in ch 10. so skip as needed please!!!

**_May 31st, 2012_ **

_**(Group Message with Takeshi, Yuuko, and Victor)** _

**[Takeshi, 10:57]:** Yuuko and the girls doing well. Pictures to come.

 **[Yuuko, 14:15]:** [picture of a very tired looking Yuuko and Takeshi cradling three small pink bundles]  
Introducing Axel, Lutz and Loop Nishigori!

 **[Victor, 14:16]:** Congratulations! So cute - and with such great names! They will be skating legends in no time.

 **[Yuuri, 14:25]:** Can’t wait to meet them!

 **[Yuuko, 14:27]:** I’M SAVING THIS FOREVER!!!! WILL YOU SIGN THE PRINT OUT???  
**[Yuuko, 14:27]:** Victor I mean  
**[Yuuko, 14:27]:** sorry, Yuuri! 

**[Takeshi, 14:30]:** Clearly my wife-to-be has had an emotional day. I’m taking her phone away now. My apologies.

**[Victor, 14:37]:** _[picture of a very loopy signature]_

 

**_June 2012_ **

Yuuri groaned and folded his pillow up to cover his ear as his phone chirped and vibrated relentlessly on his bedside table. He curled his body up into a tight ball, tensing every muscle in his body as he held his breath. Perhaps if he just stayed still, the rays from the morning sun would ignore him, let him sleep for a bit longer. They had arrived much too soon - Yuuri had only found sleep a few hours ago, no thanks to Minako and Mari. 

He finally released his breath in a slow stream as he unfurled, limb by limb, across his overly spacious bed. In retrospect, it had been his own fault for smiling too widely and blushing to brightly when they asked about Victor. Had it been Mari OR Minako on the call, or had they not been physically together in the same room, Yuuri may have been able to end the call before they put the pieces together. 

But the two of them had worked it out very quickly with a few looks and gasps (some sort of short-range woman telepathy, Yuuri was sure), which devolved into screams and a celebratory glass of sake. And then came the questions. So many questions.

He had been meaning to tell his family about it for a while - Victor’s parents knew already after all, having called Victor during his stay in Detroit. Yuuri’s face warmed at the memory - they had been laying in Yuuri’s bed, both basking in a particularly serene afterglow, their chests still glowing wet and pink with kisses, when Victor’s phone lit up with a picture of his parents. 

And Victor had _answered_. 

Thankfully, Victor had the foresight to hold the front facing camera close enough so that their faces took up most of the view (in Yuuri’s case, only the side that wasn’t burrowed into Victor’s shoulder), but it had still been incredibly obvious that neither was wearing a shirt. 

So unless it was a common occurrence for Victor to answer video chats laying naked with another man (he was pretty sure it wasn’t), Yuuri could be fairly certain that the Nikiforovs knew what was up. They kept most of the conversation in English and, though most of the conversation was directed towards Victor, they had asked Yuuri how he was doing, to which Yuuri had mumbled that he was ‘Great, thanks,’ followed by an incredible amount of blushing. 

There was one small exchange in Russian between Victor and his mother that had left Victor blushing, at a loss for words. When Yuuri had asked about it, Victor’s only response had been ‘You know how mothers are.’ And that had been the end of it.

There was a light thud from the other side of Yuuri’s far wall - the one he shared with the common area. Mitch, who had also decided to stay for the summer session, must have fallen asleep in front of their TV again. Yuuri took the hint and finally reached over to silence his steadily crescendoing alarm tone.

Yuuri’s hand froze as it moved to place his phone back on the nightstand. The alarm options had been replaced with a banner announcing that he had a missed call and voice message from Victor. He suddenly felt a bit more alert as he pulled the screen closer to his face. Victor never called this early.

 _“Good morning, solnyshko!”_

Victor’s voice was clear and bright, and Yuuri’s heart rate slowed immediately. He could distantly hear the frantic sound of blades cutting through fresh ice, punctuated by a few gruff words from Yakov.

_“I was hoping you’d answer - but it’s probably too early (light laughter). I just…I wanted to be the first thing you heard this morning. If I was there with you, I would kiss your forehead just to see that cute wrinkle between your eyes.”_

Yuuri smiled as the message faded out. He had long since accepted that there was no way he could have possibly prepared himself for all of the changes in his and Victor’s relationship. There were so many little things, subtle shifts in the solid foundations of their friendship, that snuck up on Yuuri and took his breath away with their simplistic beauty.

Like how they could say all of these little things they had previously bitten back or hastily deleted from messages except on special occasions, when they were absolutely bursting. Things like "I miss you", or Yuuri's favorite "I can't stop thinking about you.”

Yuuri tapped the callback icon immediately after the message ended, hoping that he still had enough time to catch Victor before Yakov got impatient with his absence. He closed his eyes and his mind drew up all the details of Victor’s smiling face. His cheeks freshly flushed from practice. His hair gently messy from spins and jumps. The slight red ring around his wrist from the hair tie that he still wore each time, purely out of habit now. The pout that would form on his lips when, inevitably, Yuuri would snap it during their water breaks at the rink in Detroit.

Yuuri could see Victor so vividly, could almost imagine that he was laying in the empty side of the bed. He hadn’t even been aware that a twin bed could have an ‘empty side’ before Victor had come and gone. Everything was very much the same, but so so different in the tiniest, most significant ways. Yuuri pressed his face into his pillow once more and inhaled deeply.

“Yuuri!” Victor chirped after the fifth ring. 

And the fantasy was nearly complete, missing only the senses of touch and taste. Yuuri could squeeze his eyes shut and pretend. 

“The wrinkle between my eyes is not cute,” Yuuri smirked once he found his voice, still deep and raspy with sleep. It was Victor’s favorite - he would wake Yuuri up much too early just so he could hear it. Yuuri resisted the temptation to clear his throat.

Victor laughed quietly and Yuuri heard things rustling in the background, followed shortly by Yakov’s voice. 

“Do you have to get back?” Yuuri asked, mentally crossing his fingers that the answer was no - Victor’s voice had been so nice to wake up to. He had been missing the soft Russian whisperings and feather-light kisses each morning a lot more than he would have thought. Yuuri suddenly didn’t mind getting up early after a late night if it was Victor doing the waking.

“No, it’s fine. Yakov is forgetting that I was here ten minutes early this morning,” Victor replied with a raised voice not meant exclusively for Yuuri.

A few more words were exchanged between pupil and coach, and Yuuri noted that it sounded suspiciously like a negotiation. A higher pitched voice joined the fray, silencing both Victor and Yakov with a few (fierce) words. Victor laughed lightly and Yuuri heard the unmistakable sound of skate guards being snapped into place.

“We have a few minutes - Oh! Are we still on for later - for the Grand Prix assignment posting?” Victor asked, his voice falling to a more intimate volume. 

“Yeah - is four - erm eleven - still okay for you? I should be done with the quiz by then.”

“Yeah that’s fine - I promise I won’t look! I even have my phone set to ignore calls from Yakov until then,” Victor chuckled. 

Yuuri snorted. “Not really though?”

“Of course really! That man is always calling me seconds after it posts to book our flights and figure out any coaching conflicts with Georgi and the others.”

“You sure he won’t get mad?” Yuuri asked nervously, not wanting to be another contributor to Yakov’s receding hairline, no matter how indirect it would be. 

Yuuri imagined Victor waving his hand dismissively as he replied that Yakov would be fine. 

“What program are you practicing today?” Yuuri asked.

“Short.”

“The one you sent me the music for last week?”

Victor hummed in confirmation and they started discussing which parts of the song Victor was planning on cutting and splicing together. They had both agreed to keep most of the details of the actual skating a surprise, but Victor had been much too excited about his music to hold it back from Yuuri. He said that it was important that Yuuri liked it. 

The piece was graceful and strong, flowing in a way that gave the listener an overall sense of freedom. Yuuri absolutely loved it. But, even more so, he loved the way that Victor sounded after his practices - so alive and hopeful, a drastic change from the previous season. He was so excited to see what Victor had planned this time.

Yuuri was growing more and more excited for his own morning practice. He and Celestino had finally agreed on the music for his short program a few weeks ago and today he was going to hopefully select his free skate music, rounding out his program for the season. His first season officially skating with Victor. 

Yuuri had been looking forward to this season for so long. There had been times over the years when he had tripped in his rush to chase down this dream, leading to times when it had felt like he was chasing his own shadow. Those were the nights he hobbled home from the rink, his feet barely carrying the weight of his body, after pushing himself too hard out of fear and desperation. 

Sometimes the pressure had seemed too great and he had wanted to quit, but each time he had been able to refocus himself by releasing his hopes and passion into his veins, healing his body and soul as he danced. He would curl up in his blankets, his feet aching and ass bruised, with tears soaking through his pillow case. And he would catch sight of two faces smiling up at him from the framed picture on his night stand - always the same one even after moving to Detroit - from the weekend he had spent at the European Championships, the weekend he had decided he wanted to start his skill tests.

 _’I’d like to see you there one day too, you know’_ Victor had told him. And here they were, over five years later, ready to realize their dream together. 

Yakov’s voice came over the line again, much closer sounding than last time. Victor sighed. “I have to go. Talk to you later?” Victor whispered hurriedly.

“Mmmhmm - Oh - Hey Victor?” Yuuri called, hoping his voice would beat Victor ending the call. 

“Hmm?”

“What does soly-snolyshko mean?”

“Solnyshko,” he enunciated, “means ‘little sun.’”

Yuuri’s cheeks warmed. “O-oh.”

“Is it okay?” Victor laughed. 

Yuuri smiled. “Yeah, I-I like it.”

xXx

Yuuri skipped passed the next song as soon as he recognized it. As much as he loved certain passages of the Firebird Suite, he could not trust himself not to jump in surprise at the sudden transition in tone a few minutes in, no matter how many times he listened to it or prepared himself. If Celestino’s other selections were anything to go by, he would be expecting Yuuri to skate through the transition and surprise the audience. But the last thing Yuuri needed was to end a delicate step sequence with a flubbed jump or spin because his own music took him by surprise.

All of the songs loaded onto his coach's MP3 player were powerful and would be easily recognizable by everyone in the audience. Yuuri had a suspicion his stamina was going to be pushed to it’s limits this season, which was okay with him as he was riding a fresh wave of determination and excitement for a new season and all that it would bring. 

He skipped another song, deeming it to not have enough passages to allow him to showcase all of the passionate step sequences he wanted to dance for Victor. 

The next song, however, had Yuuri’s feet itching to move. He listened a bit more, letting himself get swept away in the peppy off-beat rhythm of the piano ebbing and flowing before it was joined by the full orchestra again. His feet were used to this type of dancing after last year’s musical repertoire and he could see himself moving across the ice, could envision how his body would flow from one note to the next, singing them out with each slice of his skates across the ice. 

Yuuri’s thoughts morphed into actions at some point, his feet knowing exactly what to do. He wondered what sections Celestino would end up having him skate to, if they both agreed on this song that is. Yuuri would skate to the full ten-plus minutes if allowed, though that might be stretch even for someone with his stamina. Maybe he would test it someday, he thought. 

Two loud hand claps from the side of the rink caught his attention and he stopped the music. Celestino was standing by the half-wall across from him, having moved from his previous seat in the stands. He waved Yuuri over to him and unscrewed the lid of Yuuri’s water bottle. He waited for Yuuri to take a few sips before speaking.

“What was that last song?” Celestino asked, his eyes sparkling in a way Yuuri rarely saw. 

“Rhapsody in Blue.”

Celestino nodded in approval. “I thought you might like that one.”

Yuuri hummed in agreement as he took another long sip of water. “We’ll work out the details later, but I think that’s the one,” his coach continued. “Do you mind if we run it through the speakers so I can hear while you skate?”

Yuuri shook his head. “That’s fine,” he said as he recapped his water bottle.

“We have the ice for another hour or so before the hockey team comes in. You’ve been practicing hard this week, Yuuri. Make sure to enjoy the sunshine a bit today, okay?”

Yuuri smiled as he skated slowly to the center of the ice. _Solnyshko_ , he repeated as the swooping glissando filled the rink.

It was another half hour into his session when the lights flickered on in a mysterious part of Yuuri’s brain that only had the chance to chime in when the rest of his brain was too occupied with skating. A memory was stirred from the depths of his mind - Victor’s youthful face framed by his long hair woven with wildflowers. Yuuri could hear his voice, could see his mouth forming around that same word - solnyshko.

Victor had said it often enough that week for it to burn into the depths Yuuri’s memory. He remembered it being said in a very particular way, as if to catch his attention, often accompanied by a wave or Victor touching his arm. Yuuri hadn’t given it a second thought as a child, he had just assumed it was Russian for ‘hey you’ or the like.

But it had been Victor calling him ‘little sun’. Yuuri smiled as his feet took him to the center of the ice, the ‘business’ side of his brain responding to Celestino’s instructions to ‘do that again’. For that whole week he had been Victor’s little sun. Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder if Victor remembered. 

During his next water break, Yuuri snuck a quick text to Victor:

 **[Yuuri, 13:16]:** You’ve called me solnyshko before

Yuuri smiled as the little dots started beating on the screen. 

**[Victor, 13:16]:** Maybe ╮(︶♡︶)╭

Yuuri had started a reply of his own when a stream of messages flooded his screen:

 **[Victor, 13:16]:** okay fine, yes  
**[Victor, 13:16]:** I forgot your name when we met  
**[Victor, 13:17]:** ONLY because I was too excited when Minako told it to me  
**[Victor, 13:17]:** it’s not my fault - you know how I am  
**[Victor, 13:17]:** So I decided to call you my little sunshine because of how much you made me smile  
**[Victor, 13:17]:** And don’t think I didn’t notice you calling me Vicchan♡  
**[Victor, 13:17]:** Now get back to practice - you look good in gold, solnyshko.

Yuuri snorted, catching Celestino’s attention. He angled his body to hide his phone and pulled his water bottle back to his lips while he hastily responded.

 **[Yuuri, 13:17]:** so do you, Vicchan

 **[Victor, 13:18]:** ♡

 **[Yuuri, 13:18]:** ♡ ♡

 **[Victor, 13:18]:** ♡ ♡ ♡

xXx

Yuuri held his breath as the ISU webpage slowly loaded in his browser window. He had been trying not to get his hopes up too high - there were six events in the Grand Prix series after all - what were the chances that he would meet Victor on the ice at his first ever Grand Prix event? Especially after a period of time a few months ago when Celestino wasn’t quite sure if Yuuri would be selected or eligible to compete in the series this season since he had limited his season to local club invitationals and Japan’s nationals.

Yuuri still wasn’t completely familiar with the ins and outs of the ISU’s seeding and selection process, but apparently the fact that he had ranked well in his junior days, met scoring requirements with his nationals skate, and was personally requested by the JSF, had earned him a spot. The knowledge that anyone would fight for him as strongly as the JSF did still made Yuuri’s head spin in disbelief. But, he had to remind himself, many of his fellow national competitors had just retired, leaving the JSF with very few choices. 

Japan had always been very respected on the stage of international figure skating and usually earned at least two entries to the World championships and various other events. Yuuri tried not to focus on the fact that he was now responsible for ensuring this continued success and honor for his country. He reminded himself that this pressure wouldn’t last too long - there was a particularly large cohort of skaters who would be joining him in the senior rankings a few years from now. He would go back to being a dime-a-dozen figure skater, but until then, maybe he could shine.

“Yuuri,” Victor pouted on their video chat. “How is your internet this slow? Can I just read them to you - I'm too excited to wait.”

Yuuri jumped, spine straight, as the page finally finished loading. “Here it is!”

Victor cheered in relief and Yuuri watched his face take up more of the screen as he moved closer to the camera. 

Yuuri spotted his own name immediately under the first event, Skate America in Kent, Washington. He scanned the rest of the names quickly - no Victor Nikiforov. His heart dropped a little, but there was still one more event. Yuuri scrolled down to the NHK Trophy - his guaranteed placement as requested by the JSF. 

Victor was faster. “Skate Canada and - ugh - Rostelecom again. I’m so sick of that one - why can’t they just request Georgi for once?”

“Skate America and NHK,” Yuuri replied, letting out the breath he had been holding.

Well, that was that, he supposed. Yuuri didn’t miss the way Victor’s shoulders deflated as the news sunk in. His attention went back to the announcement screen once more. “You’ll have Chris with you at Skate Canada,” he commented, trying to find a sunny side for Victor.

Victor hummed in a half smile. “And he’ll be with _you_ at NHK - and Georgi - _and_ Crispino?” he groaned. 

“Uh um, is that bad?” Yuuri asked, suddenly nervous that Victor was hinting at an impossibly challenging line up.

As if he could sense Yuuri’s worry Victor waved his hand as he replied, “No no, you’ll be fine. I’m just jealous is all.”

“Oh - I’m sure that you’ll still have fun at yours,” Yuuri replied. 

Victor chuckled. “Of them, Yuuri. I’m jealous of them. I’ve been looking forward to skating with you for _years_ and now for your first international season…literally everyone gets to skate with you except for me,” Victor laughed with a shake of his head. “Please just beat all of them and come skate with me at the final.”

“Okay,” Yuuri promised him. 

His fist curled on his knee in determination. His dream wasn’t going to be handed to him, he knew by now not to expect those types of happy coincidences. If he wanted to skate with Victor this season, he was going to have to earn it. 

“I was also looking forward to sneaking into your room after,” Victor said with a smirk, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. 

“O-oh?” Yuuri sputtered, caught completely off guard. 

Yuuri’s stomach fluttered unexpectedly and he caught himself licking his lips. The thought had crossed his mind, he’d dreamt about it a few weeks ago. Dreamt of waking up in Victor’s arms the morning of their free programs, of Victor giving him a kiss for good luck before taking the ice. Of Victor skating into his arms after another record setting free skate. Of Victor watching him skate, being able to lock eyes with him as he danced. 

Of slipping his keycard into Victor’s skating bag.

Yuuri had been just about to casually agree and ask some mundane question about banquets when he noticed the way that Victor was biting his lower lip between his teeth. He kept his words on the tip of his tongue as he assessed the situation, noticing the way Victor’s shirt had pulled away from his sweat pants when he had rolled up onto his elbow. The sight of his pale skin had Yuuri’s mouth slightly dry and the smolder in Victor’s eyes caught his attention in a new way.

Everything clicked into place in Yuuri’s brain making him blush. He barely registered the beginnings of hesitation and embarrassment in Victor’s face as he quickly mustered the strength to keep things going in the direction Victor had been originally suggesting. It had been…a while after all, and Yuuri was in the mood to try something new with Victor. 

(Though he was thoroughly amazed at how Victor had managed to bring them from disappointment at the GP assignments to this…) 

“That’d be really nice,” Yuuri finally managed to say. Victor’s cheeks slowly tinted, giving Yuuri a bit more courage. “I-if we set an early alarm, you could stay the night and keep me warm - those rooms are always so cold.”

Victor let out a sigh as his eyes fluttered closed. “Yuuri,” he breathed, “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but it feels like ages - I miss you so much. I miss holding you, miss the way your skin feels under my hands.”

Yuuri nodded blushing furiously and growing needy. He drew in a deep breath and played off of Victor’s cues. “Me too Victor - I miss all of that too,” he bit his lip, and before he could talk himself out of it, he added: “I miss the way you sound, the way you say my name when we -“

Victor’s eyes snapped open. “Yuuri, can we…do you want to…?”

“Yes,” Yuuri practically begged, his body set aflame from the look in Victor’s eyes, amazed that he could get Victor looking like this from a few words. “But I’ve never…how does this…”

“Me either,” Victor admitted as he shifted on the bed. “Only for you - you’re the only one who…god, Yuuri, you make me so crazy. I-I can’t stop thinking about you. Could never stop thinking about you.”

Yuuri’s breath caught in his chest at Victor’s words. A mix of pride and arousal coursed through his body. _Yuuri_ was the only one who could do this to Victor. 

“Let me just…” he scrambled to unplug his laptop and carried it over to his bed. He readjusted the screen as he mirrored Victor’s position, making sure they both had a good view. 

The waistband of Victor’s pants fell out of frame as he pushed them down, revealing the most delicious expanse of white skin below where his shirt had been pushed up over his navel. Yuuri couldn’t see any further than the teasing V of his hips, but had a fairly good guess at Victor’s actions from the way his arm was shifting. 

Yuuri drew in a deep breath and wriggled out of his own sweats, a bit more of his embarrassment quashed by his need to be closer to Victor. The overwhelming need _for_ Victor, in general. 

Victor swore lightly as his eyes met Yuuri’s, the words barely loud enough to be picked up by the mic. “I - I’m thinking about that last night in Detroit when I…”

Yuuri touched himself lightly as he brought himself to the same place as Victor. He smiled, thinking about the way Victor had hovered over him, how they had been so caught up in each other that it had been hard to breathe. 

“Mmmmm…you…your mouth felt so good,” he said, his nerves fully dissipating as his arousal took over. It helped that Victor had also never done this before - this was new for both of them.

They went back and forth like this for a few minutes - reliving the sensations, telling each other what they had felt, what they had been thinking. It wasn’t long though before both were breathing heavily, faces half buried in their sheets. Victor had rolled onto his back and had the most amazing color in his cheeks. Yuuri watched as his eyes started to flutter closed, yet never fully, so that Yuuri could always see the dark blue watching him, never looking away. 

And then Victor shifted again, allowing Yuuri to see the flush tip of his cock - and Yuuri was coming suddenly with a bitten off gasp of Victor’s name. Victor’s hips started stuttering soon after and Yuuri heard his own name echoing around him as he rode out his own pleasure. 

They caught each other’s gaze in the camera with a slightly dazed laugh. Yuuri wished he could feel the vibrations on his bed from Victor’s laugh, wished he could curl up into his warm embrace, wished he could run his fingers through his mussed hair. 

As if he was thinking the same thing, Victor’s hand flopped over towards the screen, reaching out for Yuuri’s. Yuuri’s fingers twitched and curled into the empty sheets next to his head.

“I miss you,” Yuuri breathed, just as Victor opened his mouth to speak.

“Fuck - Yakov can scream at me, I don’t care. I’m taking a day or two layover in Detroit after Skate Canada.”

“Y-you mean it? I don't want you to get into trouble…”

“I can’t wait until December to hold you again, Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiled. “Me either.”

_**September, 2012** _

Yuuri’s summer term ended in mid July and he had spent every waking minute since then either on the ice or locked away in his favorite dance studio preparing for the upcoming season. Celestino had signed him up for a few events and workshops with other skating clubs in the region, and Yuuri had been getting some great feedback on his programs so far. There was still plenty of time before Skate America in late-October to make adjustments and fine tune his execution. 

Overall, Yuuri was feeling pretty good going into his first week of classes for the semester. He and Mitch welcomed their two new suite mates (both first years) in mid-August. Though, three might be a more accurate count if things in their suite continued the way they had been over the few early weeks of the semester. 

The first time Yuuri met the ‘bonus suite mate’, he had been on his way out to an early morning practice session. All of his suite mates slept in to the eleventh hour, so needless to say he was very surprised to (quite literally) run into another living being in the hallway between their bedrooms and the common area. 

She had been sneaking back to Trevor’s room, the one next door to Yuuri’s, from the communal showers shared by everyone but Yuuri, who paid extra for the single room with a private bath. Apparently, she ended up staying over the previous night to avoid her long morning commute for her early class, and figured she should shower before ‘all the guys needed to get in there’. She held out her right hand to Yuuri and introduced herself as ‘Claire - Trevor’s girlfriend’ as she used her left to hold up her short blue towel.

That had been during their first week of classes. As the weeks went on, this occurred more and more frequently - apparently Claire had a lot of early morning classes and couldn’t be bothered to go home at night just to drive back to campus a few hours later. So, she started living with Trevor. Trevor’s official roommate quickly grew tired of having a third body in their cramped room, which meant that more often than not, Yuuri would find Trevor and Claire curled up on the couch either making out, rutting, or sleeping depending on what time of the day it was. 

It was getting incredibly weird and none of them were quite sure what to do about it. So they were all ignoring it for now, waiting for the final straw to be pulled, though no one knew what that would end up being. 

Yuuri found himself in the library more and more that semester, partially due to the fact that his study area in the suite was now occupied more often than not, and partially due to the philosophy class he had elected to take that semester. To say that it was surprisingly challenging would be an understatement. He had enrolled to satisfy a gen ed requirement at the suggestion of his counselor. 

The class started off a bit rocky, but got a bit better after Yuuri got a feel for how much time he needed to get through the weekly readings. It was the smallest class he had taken to date - a mere twenty students, now cut down to fifteen. Their professor, Dr. Clark, was all business and pretty intimidating, if Yuuri was being honest. The TA for the class was quiet and concise, but fairly helpful in office hours if you knew the right questions to ask (which Yuuri never did).

No matter how much he felt like he had prepared for class, he always left with a completely new understanding of the readings that left his head absolutely spinning. He was always amazed at the conclusions he was supposed to have drawn from the in-depth rambling passages, usually not even in the same neighborhood as his own interpretations. But he kept trying, week after week. 

Yuuri’s other classes were much more enjoyable, which made it even harder to focus on the philosophy class. He would much rather be studying for Intro to Kinesiology or Sound and Design for the Performing and Visual Arts, by far his favorite class, but these often had to take a backseat to the work load assigned by Dr. Clark. Not to mention his dance workshops and skating schedule…and his social life which was rapidly dying, especially since he realized early on that participating in the theater program was not going to be an option this year.

It made Yuuri sad to miss out on some of the most enjoyable parts of his freshman year of college, but that was the life of the student athlete, he supposed. He needed to have something to fall back on when he retired from skating, because despite how much Victor told him that he wanted to see Yuuri skating until he reached retirement age of a more traditional career, it just wasn’t practical with his current profession. This was the road he had chosen and he was going to stick to it. 

Yuuri was envious of Victor sometimes. How wonderful must it be to be able to focus solely on skating, to spend every waking minute of the day consumed by one’s passion. When he told this to Victor, however, he was forced to re-think things a bit.

_‘It’s not quite as romantic as you think it is, Yuuri,’ Victor had laughed with a slow head shake. ‘At the end of the day, it is a job. A job I like very much, true, but still a job. Without anything else to prioritize in my life…well it’s hard to explain, but I guess I feel guilty if I spend my time doing anything else but skating.’_

_‘I love my late practice sessions and the time I get to spend freely pouring over music and costume designs, but I wish I could just simply enjoy the time I spend in the dog park with Makka…part of my mind always insists that I’m wasting time since I could be at the rink…even though I know that I’m not wasting my time…’_

_’Sorry, Yuuri, that got really…it’s much better this season than before. I think I’m finding a better balance now,’ Victor reassured him._

_‘Anyway, let’s talk about something else.’_

Speaking of finding balance…it was way past time to move on from what he had been working on for nearly the entirety of his morning.

Yuuri smacked his index finger across the mouse in frustrated triumph, watching as the small file upload progress bar filled with blue. He held his breath as he did one last finger tap to send the email with his first formal assignment for his philosophy class to Dr. Clark and his TA. It was as good as it was going to get, he decided. The first assignment for this type of class was always kind of a shot in the dark - was it what the professor was looking for? The second and third assignments were always a bit easier after the expectations had been made more clear for the class. 

Yuuri exhaled slowly and stretched his legs, which were cramping slightly after sitting in the computer lab chair for the greater part of the last three hours. It was time to grab a quick bite to eat from the cafeteria before his first Skype call with his future rink mate. 

But before that…Yuuri did some quick math in his head as he gathered his things and walked out into the sunlight, his finger tapping the call icon as soon as he had full bars once again. 

He bit his lip, hoping that Victor would be free and not mind him calling out of the blue. Yuuri really needed to hear his voice right now. He wanted to hear everything about Victor’s day, what he did, what he ate, who he saw, even though it was usually all the same - skating, lean protein and vegetables, and his rink mates and Makkachin. He wanted to hear the soft chimes of Victor’s laughter, the soft barely-there scrape of his five o’clock shadow against his pillow.

Yuuri nearly cried in relief when Victor answered. 

“Yuuri!” he purred.

“Talk to me? I miss you,” was all Yuuri had to say for Victor to understand.

xXx

Yuuri was surprisingly nervous as he sat down and double clicked to launch Skype. He glanced at the time as he hovered over a picture of a winking Phichit Chulanont. Celestino had been keeping Yuuri in the loop over the last few months as he worked everything out with Phichit’s parents. He would finally be moving to Detroit in March, having agreed to Phichit boarding with Celestino and his wife at first while finishing up his last year of school with a local bilingual tutor. 

Until then, Celestino wanted Yuuri to get to know his new rink mate as much as Skype would allow. He thought they would get along well and hoped that Yuuri would be able to give Phichit a good feel for life in Detroit and such. Yuuri hoped that he was right - it might be nice to have someone to travel to meets with other than his coach. 

He tapped the call icon and waited. 

Almost instantly, his screen was filled by a smiling face. He rattled off a quick greeting in what Yuuri assumed was Thai. Yuuri responded in his native tongue with a quick wave. 

“So um, how are you?” Yuuri asked after a moment of silence.

“Good, things here are good,” Phichit responded with a nervous laugh. 

There was a long pause, during which Yuuri’s stomach rolled uneasily. He had never been very good at chit-chat. He was better with people he knew and it was much easier in person rather than over the phone, but none of those applied right now. He raked his brain trying to find something to say - he didn’t want to be the one to blame if Phichit changed his mind about coming here. Also, Yuuri really did want someone else close by who understood the life of a skater. 

“Umm I can tell you a bit about life in Detroit, if you want?” he offered.

Phichit nodded and Yuuri started talking about their rink and training schedules. 

“Wow, I knew actually training with him would be tough, but Ciao-Ciao sounds intense,” Phichit commented after a while.

Yuuri opened his mouth to agree and offer some words of encouragement, but paused at the top of his inhale. “Ciao-Ciao?”

“Ah - it’s what I call Celestino. He’s been your coach for while, you must have noticed how he says that all the time.”

A laugh escaped Yuuri’s lips as he nodded. Celestino did say that phrase a lot, it was impossible to not notice - Minako used to tease him about it lightly when they were training in Hasetsu, but he wasn’t sure if his coach ever picked up on it. Before he could stop himself he said, “He says it in his sleep.”

Phichit’s laughter rang out brightly through Yuuri’s speakers (he adjusted the volume slightly as to not disturb Trevor and/or his roommate next door). “Stop! You can’t be serious?!”

Yuuri snorted as the memory came back to him full force. “We were on a red-eye to Tokyo and he fell asleep - he always falls asleep on flights, like don’t expect any last-minute in-air coaching,” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “The beverage cart was coming around and when the attendant asked me what I wanted, Celestino just said it ‘ciao-ciao’ as clearly as if he was awake.”

“That’s…wow…I have no words for that,” Phichit gasped through his laughter. 

Yuuri found himself smiling as Phichit opened up and asked him some more questions about life in America, their conversation flowing more easily now. Perhaps Celest- Ciao-Ciao had been onto something here. From there, they talked about Yuuri’s classes and his decision to attend University. Apparently it had been something Phichit was considering after he finished up his current schooling. Yuuri said he’d be happy to show him around campus and help him with his application when the time came.

Yuuri paused to grab a sip of water when it happened - a light thud against his wall, right next to where he was sitting on his bed. He groaned internally, trying to figure out a way to wrap up the call without seeming rude. It had to be getting late in Bangkok, though Phichit had confessed to being a night owl. 

He opened his mouth to say that he should let Phichit get some sleep when it began. The first moan was soft and feminine, but Yuuri knew that it would only get worse from there. And quickly this afternoon, apparently, he thought as another, louder moan floated through the wall of his room.

“What was that?” Phichit asked before Yuuri could find his words.

“Oh, um nothing, just my neighbors,” Yuuri said hastily. “We should probably - “

Phichit burst out laughing. “Oh my god no way! Yuuri, it sounds like a por-”

Yuuri felt his cheeks flare crimson as the noises continued - Claire’s voice traveled very well through their walls. “S-sorry, I know it’s super annoying. But really, I swear it’s -“

But Phichit was too busy laughing. “Oh my god, Yuuri!” He gasped, tears coming down his face now. “Do you think he says it while he’s, well you know? Think he says ‘Ciao-Ciao’?”

Yuuri choked on his saliva. “Phichit!” he squeaked. “That’s…I can’t…”

“Oh my god, okay okay. I should go to bed. I’m clearly hysterical,” Phichit cried. “Oh, by the way, what’s your Insta? I want to follow you.”

“I ah - what?”

“Your Instagram?” Phichit asked, smile quirking upwards. “Or do you prefer Twitter? I use both - or rather everything - so no judgement from me.”

“O-oh I don’t really use either,” Yuuri admitted with a blush.

Phichit gaped at him. This response was fairly par for the course, really. Yuuri was used to it. He had caved last year and gotten a Facebook, as that seemed to be the one that people just couldn’t understand him not having - it also made coordinating the theater parties and pole dance trainings a lot easier. But that had been the end of his social media exploration, especially after he got way too involved one weekend in some cute game involving cats…he shivered with a twinge of lingering withdrawal. 

“I thought about it once, but just never got around to it?” he rambled with a cringe.

Phichit shook his head with a sigh.

Before the end of the call, Phichit had somehow convinced Yuuri to download the Instagram app. Yuuri found himself with an Instagram account and several followers by the time he finally managed to take a decent selfie for his profile image. Phichit also helped him install a desktop widget counting down to when he’d be moving to Detroit. 

“Oh Yuuri this is going to be great,” Phichit sighed as they got ready to sign off. “I cannot wait to move.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement. “Same time next week?” he asked.

Phichit nodded and they said their goodnights.

 **phichit+chu** started following you

 **phichit+chu** tagged you in a photo  
**phichit+chu** mentioned you in a comment:  
“Met my rink mate today! Detroit will not be able to handle this friendship @katsuki-y”

 **v-nikiforov** started following you  
**christophe-ge** started following you

 **v-nikiforov** tagged you in a photo  
**v-nikiforov** mentioned you in a comment:  
“Where it all started with @katsuki-y”

 **v-nikiforov** tagged you in a photo  
**v-nikiforov** mentioned you in a comment:  
“13 years later with @katsuki-y ♡”

 **v-nikiforov** tagged you in a photo  
**v-nikiforov** tagged you in a photo  
**v-nikiforov** tagged you in a photo  
**v-nikiforov** tagged you in a photo

 **Yutopia-Katsuki** started following you  
**IceCastleMadonna** started following you  
**MariKat** started following you  
**OkukawaStudios** started following you

 **OkukawaStudios** tagged you in a photo  
**OkukawaStudios** mentioned you in a comment:  
“Where it really started :p @v-nikiforov @katuski-y”  
**v-nikiforov** mentioned you in a comment:  
“@OkukawaStudios my heart cannot handle this @katsuki-y. Too cute ♡♡♡”

 

**_October 1st, 2012_ **

Dr. Clark paused for a few moments after the screen transitioned to a slide that read ‘Assignment 1’ in black block letters. She nodded to the TA in the corner, who immediately stood holding a green folder to his chest. 

“As promised, I have completed grading your first assignments,” she started. “I normally hand them out at the beginning of class so you can have them for discussion, but undergrads tend to get unduly distracted by the grade and comments. I’m changing things this year so you will all get your feedback at the end of class. As such, please bring an extra copy of your completed reflections so that you can have something to talk about with the group.”

Everyone, Yuuri included, immediately sat up a bit straighter in their seats as if their attentiveness would earn them a last minute bonus point. He felt his heart pounding against his ribcage. After the discussion they had about the readings in class today, he knew that he hadn’t interpreted everything correctly, thus his response wasn’t exactly what she had been looking for. The only question remaining was how much credit would he get for his personal reflection on the piece? 

The TA weaved about the room handing out papers, none were pristine and white Yuuri noticed with a frown, as their professor continued. “I was not impressed by what I saw, even for an introductory level class. I hope that these guiding remarks will help you produce up to my expectations. If I had graded to my usual standards,” she stared at them pointedly, “more of you would have received a failing grade.”

Then, she clicked to the next slide which showed the most brutally honest grading distribution that Yuuri had ever seen. Most professors shared rough percentages with their curious students after an exam. Percentages were safe to an extent - they required calculating out the exact number of people that received each letter if someone was curious enough, which usually they weren’t. Apparently Dr. Clark liked to be more direct about things. 

Two As. 

Five Bs and five Cs.

Two Ds and…

The TA slid Yuuri’s paper, face down, on top of his open page of notes and walked to the next student. He could see hints of angry red bleeding through the words he had spent so much time crafting. Against his better judgement, Yuuri flipped the paper over. 

…one F.

Yuuri was the one F. He felt his cheeks burn crimson as he hastily stuffed the evidence into the back of his notebook. His eyes darted around the room - could they tell, he wondered? Did everyone know that Yuuri Katsuki was the one F? That he had bombed so much harder than everyone else? That on the generous grading criteria offered by their professor, he still managed to fail that spectacularly? 

His breathing accelerated as he felt his stomach slowly slide out of his body, while still somehow leaving him incredibly nauseous. After he was certain that everyone was too busy reading their own results to worry about him, Yuuri flipped back to where he had stuffed the assignment and looked at it again, taking extra care to shield it from the eyes of his classmates. 

(They were looking, right? Looking for the complete failure in the room? He could feel their eyes, could hear their minds laughing, yearning to know who had failed…)

There were a few corrected grammar mistakes, which was to be expected as he didn’t have a complete mastery of structural written English. But the other comments…some were helpful, pointing out a key part of the author’s argument that he had missed, but others…Yuuri felt a pressure building behind his eyes as one word stuck out to him. One word, in all caps and underlined three times - “REALLY????” Followed by “THINK!”

“The next round of reflection papers is due, via email, October fifteenth by eight in the morning. Five hundred words, approximately, just like this one. I will have them graded for class the next day,” their professor concluded. “As always, please come prepared for a good discussion.”

The bell rang and Yuuri half bolted out of his chair, the metal feet screeching across the dirty tile. He would just have to do better this week, he told himself as he shoved his arms through the straps of his backpack. He kept his eyes glued to the floor as he walked as quickly as he could towards the door in a daze.

Part of the issue had been time, he knew. He would have to make a concerted effort to start the readings even earlier in the week and read them several times to make sure he fully understood them, to avoid another failure. He could start now, he realized with a jolt of inspiration. Yuuri turned on the spot, narrowly avoiding a few of his classmates (oh god, they had to know, right?) as he headed over to the library.

Yuuri stopped by the self-service desk to reload his printing card before heading to the computer lab. He grimaced as the first reading was spit out - ten double sided sheets, each split in half, like a flat scan of a book, and filled with text. The next reading was better, only three pages double sided. But the last one…the last one he watched in horror as it was birthed from the ancient machine. Thirty-two pages, double sided sheets of printer paper - the equivalent of one hundred and twenty-eight book pages. 

Yuuri removed the pages from the printer tray with trembling hands and went in search of an empty study table. He finally found one on the third floor and settled into the space. A glance at his syllabus told him that he had two weeks before this reflection paper was due, so he had some breathing room. 

Or so he thought, until he noticed that there was also a selection of readings he needed to complete for next week’s class as well, for discussion only. Not quite as much reading, but still about thirty pages from their class textbook.

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he exhaled. He could do this, Yuuri knew that he could. He might not be the fastest reader, but he could do this if he gave himself enough time. 

An hour and a half later, he finally finished a first read of the shortest article, with only a vague idea as to what it had been about. It’s fine, he thought to himself as he cleared up his belongings. He would just read it again tonight after his private session with Celestino. Then again after dinner, if needed. Yuuri could do this. He was not going to let this get him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, you should see the next chapter in a week/week and a half ish. Also, if you haven't seen it yet I did post a quick Victor POV of chapter 6 titled 'I feel so untouched (and I want you so much)'. It's part 6 of this series so you should be able to hit the 'Next Work' button at the top of this chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for reading. Special thanks to those of you who take the time to leave kudos and/or share your reactions and thoughts with me! Yuuri's situation appears to be resonating with many of you. It's coming from a personal place for me as well. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!
> 
> EDIT: Things will get pretty stressful in this chapter, so always feel free to skip down to the next date heading (all of them here are 'October' if you want to CTRL F to skip more quickly). Also feel free to skip this chapter and wait for chapter 10 if this is hitting too close to home --you'll get the gist of what Yuuri went through without the stress.

**_October 14th/15th, 2012_ **

_‘Hi Cia— ah Celestino, it’s Yuuri. Ummm, I guess I was wondering if we could move our usual afternoon session to sometime later this week. It’s um, well everything is fine but I think I could focus more once I get this assignment out of the way. Let me know, thanks.’_

Yuuri stared at the slim bar situated on his screen, watching as it flashed expectantly at him. 

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

_‘Hey solnyshko! I hope we’re still on for our Skype date later. I think I gave Yakov a mild heart attack with some of the changes I made to my short program today during practice - but Yuuri! I know you will understand when you see it! I can’t wait to finally see your program for Skate America! Anyway can’t wait to hear your voice…’_

The bar moved slowly across the page, leaving behind a trail of letters arranged just so.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. 

_‘I was a bit surprised by your midterm score, Yuuri - especially after you’ve been acing all of your quizzes. I’m not really supposed to do this but…I haven’t submitted final grades to the instructor yet, so if you want to, you can stick around for a few minutes after discussion and re-do the ones you missed for half credit. Erm, this probably goes without saying but, don’t tell anyone else. Kinesiology is a vigorous program, and I really think you have the mind for it, which is why I’m letting you do this.’_

The bar jumped down to a new line taking a half-formed word with it, ready to fill more of the pristine white space.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

_‘Well you’ve missed the deadline to drop classes on your own, but you have the option to withdraw until almost the end of the semester. It’ll show up on your transcript as a ‘W’, but based on what you’ve told me it’s definitely something to consider. It sounds like the class has been getting better for you, but come and see me if you decide otherwise.’_

The bar moved backwards, eating up the characters it had just produced. It replaced them with new ones, but not nearly as many as it had just devoured.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Bli-

“The library will be closing in fifteen minutes. Please make your way to the check out station with your final selections at this time.”

Yuuri jumped as the library’s intercom system crackled above him. He hadn't even been aware the library had a com system. He ran his fingers through his hair as his leg continued to bob furiously under the wooden table. A glance at the top right hand corner of his screen confirmed that it was indeed nearly midnight. A glance at the bottom left corner of his screen told him that he still had two hundred words left to write. 

Now he understood why his classmates complained about the fact that this library actually closed, unlike so many college campuses where libraries were 24/7. A consequence of attending a school with a disproportionate amount of commuting students, he supposed.

He snapped the lid of his laptop closed with a frustrated sigh and quickly gathered his things into his backpack, loathe that he needed to waste the five minutes of his precious time that it was going to take him to walk back to his dorm. Yuuri tried to stay positive - he really had made a lot of progress in the last two hours after he ran across an online discussion thread about one of the required readings. Things started to make more sense after that, and he figured he needed maybe another hour and a half to knock out the rest of the required words.

Maybe he’d get lucky and find a few other discussions about the remaining pieces. 

A little voice inside of him told him that the was pathetic for having to scour the internet for help, that he’d never be able to manage the class on his own. It reminded him that he’d have to do this all over again next week. And the week after.

Yuuri curled his hand into a fist around the strap of his bag as he passed by the lecture hall where he had class tomorrow. He immediately felt his muscles tense as his ‘flight’ instinct threatened to take over as he quickly shuffled by. He could do this, he told himself as he tried to calm down his breathing. 

He jumped up and down lightly on his toes to clear his head, the soles of his shoes meeting the pavement with a satisfying ‘smack’. It was probably the closest Yuuri could get to the one thing he was always itching to do in these moments of unrest. He shook his head - skating was not and option right now, nor would it realistically bring him any closer to finishing his assignment. He just had to find another way to focus. Had to grit his teeth and Get. It. Done.

Last week’s discussion session for the class had left him feeling okay. Yuuri had participated more than usual and had only stuttered through a few ideas that ended up being a bit off, but Dr. Clark had seemed to think it was fine - better than his usual silence at least (she’d only had to call him out once to get his opinion). But, getting to that point had required a lot of preparation which meant he spent less time studying for his kinesiology midterm…which meant he got a low B on an exam he probably could have aced with his eyes closed if he had been able to stick to his original study plan.

And now, here he was staying up much too late on another assignment for the class and skipping out on more of his life. Rescheduling ice time. Completely skipping studio sessions. Ignoring texts from his friends. Canceling his Skype date with Victor. 

(How many more weeks were there in the semester?)

Yuuri kicked a stone across the sidewalk as he made his way back, wishing for the umpteenth time that he could go back to 11:55 PM last Friday when he had his mouse hovering over the ‘Drop this class’ button in his student portal. He should have clicked it. Looking back on it, it was the obvious decision. That one movement would have unlocked the cage he found himself in, allowing him to focus on more important things he had going on this week and beyond. 

But something had stopped him. The same tiny voice in his mind that laughed at his shortcomings and took joy in reminding him of his struggles, that same voice whispered to him that clicking the button would be admitting defeat. 

What would his parents think? 

What would his classmates think? They’d know immediately he’d dropped, that he couldn’t handle it after all…thought they probably already knew that anyway.

What would Victor think? He always said he admired Yuuri for keeping up with school while skating. Would he be disappointed to see Yuuri struggling? Dropping the class would prove that Yuuri didn’t deserve the praise.

Yuuri closed the suite door softly behind him as he removed his shoes. His eyes naturally flickered over to his bedroom door. He bit his lip to keep in a soft whimper. He was so tired. So, so tired. Tired in a different way than he was after a day of skating. And he still had more time to put in. 

His stomach lurched at the thought, and for a moment Yuuri thought he was going to throw up into his shoes. He pressed his palms into the sockets of his eyes as he drew in a few shaky breaths. 

He could probably finish the assignment before the 8 AM deadline if he just set an alarm for five…

Yuuri shook his head and forced his feet to move in the direction of the shared desk in the common area. No, he would sleep later. He’d be done before two and could sleep in until nine if he sacrificed his morning weight training session. Skipping one couldn’t hurt anything, right? Especially since Skate America was this weekend, he wouldn’t want to risk having sore legs…

Yuuri plopped heavily into the stiff wooden chair and was reaching into his backpack when - 

“Ah, um Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s head snapped around to the couch. And then promptly back to the desk. “Ahhh gomen— ah sorry!”

Claire giggled from under the blanket on the couch. “Right, so…are you going to leave or…?” Trevor asked, with a tone of disbelief and expectation in his voice. 

Yuuri barely contained his sob of frustration as he jammed his computer back into his bag. His cheeks were hot under his fingers as he brushed away a few stray tears. He walked quickly to his room, keeping his eyes glued to his feet and trying his best to ignore the angry hisses being traded back and forth on the couch. 

He started at his desk. Then moved to the bed. Then the floor. Then back to the desk. Back to the floor.

The hour and a half he estimated came and went, and Yuuri had an additional sixty-seven words to show for it. He drew in a deep breath and pressed on through his growing nausea.

Another hour passed. The pages of the required readings were spread around him in a circle on the floor, and Yuuri wondered if maybe he could arrange them in such a way to summon a spirit to help him. Or a demon - anything really at this point to help him finish this. He’d perform a blood sacrifice with the blades of his skates if he had to. 

At three, Yuuri forced himself to eat a protein bar. He saw it again in a much less appealing state at around 3:15, and a bit more of it at 3:30. He brushed the foul taste of bile out of his mouth at 3:38 and forced himself back to work.

It was 4:45 in the morning now and somehow Yuuri had written negative words. He took a short break to scream into his pillow.

Six AM - those were what those letters were on his clock, right? An ‘A’ and an ‘M’? His heart was pounding in his chest. He deleted everything he wrote in the last hour. 

Yuuri watched the sun rise with tears streaming down his face. He had nothing left to write about, nothing left he could possibly say about these readings. Which was kind of funny since one of them was well over one hundred pages and Yuuri only had to write one. He leaned forward over his knees until his forehead met the floor. 

His breath was coming much more quickly than it should be. His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t expand his lungs all of the way. Yuuri was caught in an undertow, and maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever to just let it take him into the deep, dark abyss. He was going to fail the assignment anyway, so why should he spend any more time on it? It wouldn’t make it better. Time was never going to make this better. Yuuri was born to fail this class, and that was the simple fact of the matter.

In then end, Yuuri fought the current and sent the emailed attachment to Dr. Clark at 7:57 AM - three minutes to spare. His heart was pounding, full of regret, shame, and something that burned much, much deeper.

Yuuri turned his attention to his phone, which had been buzzing constantly for the last hour. He lifted it with a shaky hand. As expected, most notifications were texts from Victor wishing him a good morning and hoping that Yuuri hadn’t gotten to bed too late last night (he’d never gotten his goodnight kisses, Victor pouted). 

Yuuri responded with a stream of apologies and promises to make it up to Victor. He may have left out the part where he still hadn’t gone to bed, and that these good morning kisses were also his goodnight kisses. Victor didn’t respond, which was expected as he was in the middle of his private session now with Yakov. Yuuri resisted the urge to call, even though he desperately wanted to hear Victor’s voice. It would mean admitting that he was having a rough time of it and did not want Victor to be concerned. 

Instead, Yuuri dragged himself to the shower where he sat on the tile as cold water cascaded down his back. He allowed himself to cry until he had nothing left to give. It was over now, he reminded himself as he soaped up. He managed to turn in something he felt okay with in the end, but at what cost?

**_October 20th, 2012_ ** _\- Skate America Men’s free program, Kent, Washington_

“How’s your ankle feeling today, Yuuri?” Celestino asked.

Yuuri took the water bottle from his coach’s outstretched hand and sipped slowly. The arena was humming in excitement as the last few skaters in Yuuri’s group exited the ice. Yuuri had done only his most basic warm-up, trying his best to ignore the beautiful spins and successful jumps being landed all around him. He would have traded anything to be in top performance condition in that moment. 

Even though his ankle was growing less stiff by the day, Celestino had urged him to take it easy, especially since he’d be opening the Free Program performances that day. Yuuri resisted the urge to look at the leader board projected on the overhead screens. Even without his glasses he knew he’d be able to see his country’s flag at the bottom of the screen for his group.

“It’s…fine. I think I’ll have to stick to triples only again,” he admitted. “I - I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you were hoping for…”

Celestino raised a hand as if to grab his shoulder in comfort, but hesitated and let it drop back to his side. “I’m just glad it wasn’t more serious. It could have been a lot worse,” Celestino sighed. “Your step sequences yesterday were good, and from what I saw during warm-up just now, today will go just fine. It’s more than I would have expected from someone who missed nearly a week of practice.”

Yuuri shrugged as he peeled off his warm-up jacket. Victor had said something similar last night, after he had managed to get Yuuri to stop apologizing for his hesitant jumps. It was definitely not the first impression he had wanted to give Victor of what he had in store for the season. Yuuri was better than this.

The truth was, Yuuri was angry. 

After submitting the reflection paper on Monday morning, he had forgone sleep altogether and carried on with his day. By the time his afternoon ice time came around, he was running on fumes. As Celestino said, it was truly a miracle that the flubbed quad-sal had only resulted in a very minor ankle tweak rather than something more serious. They had decided to lighten their practice sessions until after Skate America.

(Because he was failing to keep up, failing to do his best.) 

Yuuri had barely contained his laugh of disbelief at the end of his philosophy class the next day when the assignment was returned to him. _’This is fine overall, but I know you could have done a bit better. I was impressed with your points last week, but this fell flat in comparison’_ had been the overall comment at the top of the page, right next to the large C. He was already dreading what Dr. Clark would have to say about his complete lack of preparation for this coming Tuesday’s class. Yuuri highly doubted he would have the time to go through the readings multiple times as he usually had to. 

Yuuri skated to the center of the ice as his name was announced. He drew in several deep breaths as he tried to clear his head. At this point, he knew the podium was an impossible outcome for the weekend. As was making the Final, he thought.

 _‘Was the Final ever a possibility you were considering?’_ the voice asked. _‘You’re average. That’s the best you’ve shown you can be. They only take the best for the Final, not the failures._

Yuuri wanted so badly to simply enjoy his skating, to feel the same thrill of competition here at his first Grand Prix event as he did every other time. Deep, deep down, he knew he deserved to be here, knew that he could put on a good performance today. 

But the voice was loud and mean and everywhere, drowning out everything else. And it was breaking him.

**_October 23rd, 2012_ **

Yuuri flicked his eyes to the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes left of class. He had survived the first hour and a half as a quiet observer, letting his classmates carry the discussion. What were the chances that he would get lucky enough to get away with it?

He wiped his sweating palms on his jeans again as he nodded his head in agreement with Laura. Sam chimed in next, followed quickly by a counter argument posed by Jean that caused Yuuri to furrow his brow a bit as he tried to keep up. 

Dr. Clark noticed his response immediately. “Yuuri, what do you think?”

Heat rose to his cheeks almost immediately as he tried to get his mind to settle down enough to speak. He opened his mouth and started stammering out a summary of both Jean and Sam’s points - after which he took a long sip of water and coughed (he was still recovering from the dry airplane air, he explained). 

“And well after considering both sides, I think that um…” he willed his brain to come up with anything - any original thought related to the readings. He cursed his autopilot reactions to the discussion, cursed his inability to think clearly when in panicked survival mode. Because that’s all Yuuri really wanted - to survive the class.

“I would have to say that…” he stammered along for a bit longer. He coughed again - the tickle in his throat persisting. “Oh um sorry, I ah, lost the thought. Um can you just…come back to me?” 

Dr. Clark raised an eyebrow at him and nodded. “We’ll come back to you in a bit. We only have a few minutes left together, so I hope it comes back soon,” she said pointedly.

His breathing accelerated with every second that went by. Yuuri really had nothing more to say, absolutely nothing to contribute to the discussion. Why was everyone else having such an easy time of it? Luckily, Jean and Sam had a lot to say and allowed Yuuri to sit very still, hoping that the floor would swallow him up.

The bell rang overhead, and despite Dr. Clark’s sharp warning that _‘I decide when class ends, not the bell’,_ Yuuri swept his things into his arms and sprinted out of the room. He was amazed that he had been able to hold back his tears. How was it possible to feel like this over a philosophy discussion section? He had never felt this awful in his entire life. 

Yuuri made a bee line to his dorm, so caught up in finding an outlet for his feelings that he narrowly avoided being taken out by a bike. The cyclist was yelling something back over his shoulder at Yuuri, but Yuuri kept walking, hiding his face in the collar of his jacket.

He dropped his backpack next to his desk when he finally arrived. In a flurry of limbs, Yuuri donned his most comfortable sweats and grabbed both his skating and dancing bags. He’d decide on his way out which he wanted to do, though he was sincerely hoping there would be some unreserved ice time available. It would only be semi-private, but Yuuri needed to be somewhere that made him feel good. He needed to get out of this spiral before it consumed him completely.

He walked straight through an argument Trevor was having with his roommate, Kevin - something about Kevin being an ass for refusing to take Trevor’s iClicker to their chem class again. 

“But Claire’s on break and wants to watch a movie - she had a rough exam earlier!”

“Probably because neither of you go to class anymore.”

“Dude, just take it with you. You’re going anyway!”

“Can you even hear yourself? When was the last time —“

Yuuri let the door slam behind him as he continued making his way back outside. He pulled up the rink’s schedule and was relieved to see there were still time slots open. Yuuri immediately booked one and veered off to the right towards the tall concrete parking garage. 

He had just closed his car door when his phone started ringing. Yuuri bit his lip as he pulled it out of his pocket. It was Victor. His thumb hovered over the red icon as he contemplated. He exhaled deeply and stared, waiting for it to ring out. He couldn’t physically bring himself to reject his boyfriend’s call, but he also knew that he was way too emotional to talk. Yuuri needed to skate. 

The phone eventually stilled in his hand, though the ghost vibrations of his overstimulated nerves lingered. Yuuri gritted his teeth as he flicked the keys into the ignition. The short drive surprisingly took some of the edge off of his anxiety. Traffic was nonexistent and the trees in the few parks he passed were vivid with autumn colors. 

He had posted a picture of his favorite stretch of trees on campus to Instagram - the ones that looked like someone from the art school had painted them with the truest reds, oranges, and yellows imaginable. Phichit had been over the moon about about the amazing selfies he was going to get next fall. Especially after Yuuri corrected Phichit’s initial assumption that he had learned how to use the saturation and filter features of the app.

Yuuri sent Victor a quick text when he arrived at the rink, his guilt starting to eat at him. He knew that Victor would understand, or at least he hoped he would.

 **[Yuuri, 12:58]:** Hey sorry, I’m at the rink  
**[Yuuri, 12:58]:** Can I call after? Not too late, I promise

 **[Victor, 12:58]:** Of course!  
**[Victor,12:58]:** I want to talk to you about my plan for next week  
**[Victor, 12:58]:** assuming it still works for you?  
**[Victor, 12:58]:** Please say it does?

 **[Yuuri, 12:59]:** Yes, very much  
**[Yuuri, 12:59]:** Yakov agreed?

 **[Victor, 12:59]:** No, but that’s never stopped me before  
**[Victor, 12:59]:** I’ll let you get back to practice

 **[Yuuri, 12:59]:** xoxoxo

 **[Victor, 12:59]:** xoxoxo

 

**_October 29th, 2012_ **

Yuuri was dripping with excitement by the time his kinesiology lecture let out. Victor had been texting him periodically all morning to keep him updated on his travel. There had been a small hang-up at the rental car facility in Windsor and the usual delays at the US/Canada borderline, but overall having Victor drive to Detroit was much faster than flying. 

The last text he received was a selfie Victor had taken curled up on Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri would have to thank Mitch for guiding Victor to the dorms and letting him in. That was nearly an hour ago already and the wait had been unbearable. Yuuri picked up his pace, weaving frantically through the sea of students in search of lunch. 

He barely paused to flick off his shoes before hurrying over to his door, only just remembering that Victor might still be sleeping and might be alarmed if the door suddenly slammed open. Yuuri smiled at his eagerness as he let the door fall softly shut behind him. 

And there was Victor, curled up on his side of the bed with his eyes closed. Yuuri’s heart squeezed in his chest as he stared, torn between the urge to jump on top of him and the desire to simply appreciate from afar. He stepped closer and he could almost pretend that this was normal, that Victor had never left Detroit back in May. Yuuri reached out to finger his sheets, the ones that Victor had picked out for him. They rippled lightly as each of Victor’s deep exhales breezed over them. 

“Are you going to say ‘hi’ or just keep staring?” Victor murmured. 

His voice was clear and close and real. And Yuuri had been waiting months to hear it again.

He smiled as Victor’s hand groped the empty air in front of him, trying to reach any piece of Yuuri. Yuuri grabbed the flailing hand between his and kissed the inside of Victor’s palm. He saw a crack of blue between silver lashes as Victor assessed his location, pouting that Yuuri was still too far away. 

Yuuri finally caved and climbed into the space beside Victor, placing his glasses out of the way on the bedside table for now. “Hi,” Yuuri whispered as their noses touched.

Victor pulled his hand out of Yuuri’s so he could trace the lines of Yuuri’s face, his touch feather light. He leaned forward to capture Yuuri’s lips in a gentle kiss as his fingers laced into Yuuri’s hair. They both sighed into the initial contact. The action was soft and slow. Deliberate and lingering. Yuuri wrapped his arm around to Victor’s back to pull them closer as they continued their unhurried ‘hello’. When they separated it was only for a second at a time so that their eyes could meet, to confirm this was reality and not a dream. 

While their video chats had often been heated and needy, their actual physical reunion stayed in a different phase of desperation where time moved slowly and things were meant to be savored. The knowledge that he’d be able to see Victor, to touch, hear, smell and taste him had been the only thing sustaining Yuuri for several days. And now he was here and maybe, just maybe, Yuuri thought, things would be okay.

“I missed you,” Yuuri whispered against Victor’s lips.

“I missed you too,” Victor smiled.

He rolled Yuuri onto his back, chasing him into the pillows with a few deeper kisses. 

“So much,” Yuuri continued, his heart fluttering with every soft press of Victor’s lips. He felt Victor hum in agreement against his mouth. 

“When do you have to leave for class?” Victor asked when they finally, properly, came up for air.

Yuuri tensed as the word brought his awareness back. “Probably five minutes,” he sighed. “But um, it’s that sound and performance class I’ve been telling you about. I'm sure the instructor wouldn’t mind if you joined. If you want to, that is.”

Victor nodded eagerly. “Can I see the project you’ve been working on for it?”

Yuuri nodded. “I’ll show you after dinner.”

They talked about Victor’s performance at Skate Canada while walking across campus. Victor did most of the talking, which Yuuri was glad for. It kept his mind off of the take-home quiz he had to finish up for philosophy class tomorrow. He had been trying to let go of the anxiety that had crept up on him after Victor had casually mentioned classes. Yuuri just wanted to enjoy the short time he had with Victor before they had to part ways again. 

He squeezed Victor’s hand more tightly as he tried to ground himself in the moment once more. He focused on the warmth of Victor’s palm, the slight pinch where their bony knuckles knocked together. Victor smiled down at him questioningly, and Yuuri reassured him that he was fine with a swift kiss to the cheek. He loved the light pink blush that painted Victor’s face after such a simple display of affection. Video chatting only let him see the darker red tones, glossing over these more subtle reactions. It was hard to resist repeating the action again, and again, but they had reached their destination.

Victor’s eyes widened as he followed Yuuri into the lecture hall. “Wow, this is much bigger than I was expecting.”

“Mmmm, yeah it’s actually a pretty popular class here,” he responded as he led the way to the middle of the left hand wing of the room. 

He slid into his usual seat and pulled out a notebook. Victor removed his coat before sitting in the seat next to him. “Are you sure you won’t be bored?” Yuuri asked. 

Victor smiled and shook his head. “You know I love it when you talk about this class,” he replied.

The lecture hall slowly filled up with bodies and chatter as Yuuri told Victor a bit more about their class project. Yuuri slid his fingers through Victor’s again and pulled their hands over to rest on his own thigh as class started, pleased that Victor had chosen to sit on his left so he could keep their contact while taking notes.

Halfway through class, Yuuri noticed that Victor had pulled down his own little square desk across his lap, presumably to hide his phone from view while he browsed his social media. Yuuri leaned over to tease Victor about his short attention span, but paused upon realizing that Victor was typing furiously. 

“Are you taking notes?” Yuuri asked in a low whisper as the realization dawned on him.

Victor nodded. “It’s really interesting. I can actually use some of this…”

Yuuri smiled and he let his legs fall open, his knee knocking lightly into Victor’s. “Nerd,” he teased. 

Victor barely contained a laugh as he pushed back against Yuuri’s leg. “Shhh don’t make me report you for disrupting class.”

Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand lightly and returned his attention to the front of the room. His heart fluttered in his chest when Victor returned the pressure, wondering how different this semester would be going if having Victor in his classes was the rule rather than the exception. Victor smirked when he caught Yuuri staring, and quickly jerked his head towards the front of the room. Yuuri smiled as he turned (most) of his attention back to the projected slides at the front of the room.

xXx

“Did that satisfy your curiosity of college cafeteria cuisine?” Yuuri asked after they arrived back at his room.

Victor hummed, his finger touching his lip in contemplation. “Quite,” he smiled wickedly. “The cajun cod was cooked - “

Yuuri burst out laughing. “Okay okay, you can stop now.”

“Oh thank god. I couldn’t think of good way to finish that,” Victor laughed.

“I still have a bit of homework to do for tomorrow,” Yuuri said regretfully, his eyes shifting to the clock. “But it shouldn’t take too long. I hope.”

“Is it something you can do while sitting in bed, or do you need your desk? I can just read for a bit, but I want to be close to you.”

“Y-yeah, bed is fine,” Yuuri said. “And sorry - I really did try to finish this before you got here, but -”

“With considerable care! The cajun cod was cooked with considerable care! Ha, I did it!” Victor exclaimed. “Sorry, it was going to bother me.”

“So bad. Unbelievable,” Yuuri whined, covering his eyes with his hand as Victor offered an apologetic shrug. 

“I promise I’m done now. Anyway, don’t apologize,” Victor said as he walked over to Yuuri’s bed. “It’s okay, really.”

Yuuri paused to grab his things from his bag, his jaw clenched tightly. Just another thing that this class was taking away from him. He offered Victor a weak smile as he climbed onto the bed next to him. 

Victor stacked Yuuri’s pillows behind his back and spread his legs wide, patting the space between them. Yuuri smiled for real this time and gladly fitted himself against Victor, leaning back into his chest. 

“Comfortable?” Yuuri asked, tilting his head back to meet Victor’s gaze. 

Victor kissed the top of his head as he powered on his kindle. “Perfect.”

Yuuri set his laptop to the side after pulling up the assignment in Word. He had one question left and it was associated with the shortest reading for that week - a mere six pages. He drew in a few calming breaths to feign off anxiety for as long as possible. Yuuri knew it would infiltrate his brain eventually, as it always did at some point or another when doing work for this class, but he hoped he could keep his mind clear enough to at least finish one thorough read.

The rise and fall of Victor’s chest and the warmth radiating from it were soothing and helped keep his head clear enough so that he made it through the first three pages relatively quickly. Yuuri stopped to read the question he was supposed to be answering and froze. He read it again. 

And again.

Okay, maybe the author just hadn’t yet gotten to the idea the question was asking about. Yuuri kept reading, trying to focus on the way Victor’s fingertips were absently stroking through his hair in order to keep himself calm. 

Yuuri got to the end of the sixth page and immediately flipped back to the start. “Done?” Victor asked, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

Yuuri shook his head, his cheeks burning, knowing that he should be done, that he should have been able to get the point after a first careful read. If he were smarter he could probably have managed it. Sam and Jean would probably have managed it.

“No, I um…well I usually have to read them a few times. It takes a while for it to sink in for this class. I’m probably not smart enough to be taking it actually,” he laughed weakly. 

“I’m sure that’s not true, Yuuri,” Victor said quickly, wrapping his arm across Yuuri’s chest and squeezing lightly in reassurance. 

Yuuri hummed noncommittally and returned to reading, this time with a pen in hand. Victor was right. Yuuri knew he was capable, had proved it to himself in other classes. Deep down, Yuuri knew what he said wasn’t true. So why had he said it? 

_You can do this,_ he told himself.

Yuuri read the pages again. And again. And again, each time adding more and more underlines and notes, but failing to get any closer to answering the last question of the assignment. He should have read this article sooner, he would admit that much, but the other questions had been pretty easy at the time. Their articles had actually made a bit of sense. Or, maybe he had just completely missed the point. 

_It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,_ the little voice said. 

Before he could stop himself, Yuuri started to panic. Oh god, he had them all wrong, didn't he?

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri jumped slightly. “Yuuri, are you alright?” Victor asked, abandoning his kindle. 

“F-fine. I’m fine,” Yuuri managed to choke out. 

That voice, tiny but so loud, in the back of his mind was getting harder and harder to shake. 

Yuuri’s chest was getting tight. He had them all wrong, he was such a failure. And now Victor was _here_ , experiencing his failure. Victor had watched him fail at Skate America and was now here to witness Yuuri’s inadequacy in yet another aspect of his life.

 _But I didn’t fail at Skate America, not really,_ Yuuri fought back.

_Didn’t you though? The point was to make it to the final, to skate with Victor, and now you never will. Because you failed._

Victor’s hands hands ran lightly up and down Yuuri’s arms. “Are you cold?”

Yuuri shook his head, blinking away his tears. _Please,_ he thought, _please, I don’t want Victor to see this…_

“You’re shaking,” Victor said as he sat up abruptly, pushing Yuuri with him. “Yuuri - “

Convulsing probably would have been a better word choice. Yuuri dropped his pen as a sob was ripped from his chest. 

“Yuuri! Talk to me,” Victor urged as he hugged Yuuri tightly to his chest. “Solnyshko, what’s going on?”

Yuuri knew the gesture was meant to be comforting and it would have been welcomed at any other time, under almost any other circumstance. But his body freaked out as if accepting comfort meant admitting his weakness. 

Yuuri flattened his palm against Victor’s chest and _pushed_.

Victor fell back to his elbows, his head narrowly missing the headboard. He blinked a few times and Yuuri could see a twinge of hurt and confusion in his eyes. Yuuri squeezed his arms tightly around himself, a bit shaken by his own actions. He stared at a point next to Victor’s hips as he tried to find the words to express himself. The unevenness of his breathing, the constriction of his chest, the throbbing pain in his throat were making it difficult to think, let alone speak.

It was Victor who regained control of his words first. He let out a long sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, pausing to clench the locks in his fist as he spoke. “Do you need me to leave for a bit?” he asked. 

Victor’s voice was surprisingly level and calm. Part of Yuuri had expected him to be angry, wanted him to be angry, because Yuuri had just pushed him away when all Victor wanted to do was make things better. He took a few deep breaths, his heart constricting with guilt every time he glanced up to see the lingering pain and concern on Victor’s face.

Yuuri eventually shook his head, biting his lip between his teeth. While he did want a bit of space, Victor completely leaving would only make things worse. Yuuri needed to talk to him about the decision he was currently trying to make in his head. 

“No, please stay,” he choked out. “Just…sit here, next to me?” he asked scooting his back against the wall.

Victor nodded. “Of course, whatever you need.”

They sat side by side on the bed, a few inches of respectful space between them, as Yuuri focused on evening out his breathing. When he finally opened his mouth to talk, he didn’t close it again until he finished. 

He confessed everything to Victor - his difficulties with the assignments and his sleepless nights spent crying in frustration and staring at a blank computer screen. The way he had run himself (quite literally) to the ground during practice after being awake for thirty-six hours during the week Skate America, only to end up with a half-baked reflection paper and an off-podium finish at his first Grand Prix event. 

Victor stayed silent the whole time, clearly fighting his natural instincts to offer physical comfort to Yuuri by keeping the small gap between their bodies. Though Yuuri had mostly been looking at his feet or knees while speaking, he did notice the way Victor’s hand would flicker off of the bed, only to be jerked back down.

Yuuri was the one who had to reinitiate contact after the words stopped spilling from his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he watched his own fingers as they crept across the mattress to find Victor’s. Victor jumped slightly at the contact, his head tilting to finally look at Yuuri. Yuuri gave his hand a light squeeze, his vision focused on that single point of physical contact. Victor started rubbing slow circles onto the back of his hand, waiting in silent comfort.

“I’ve been thinking about dropping it,” Yuuri finally whispered, his voice ragged.

“Then do it,” Victor said almost immediately.

Yuuri fisted the sheets in his free hand. He wished it was that easy for him. Others had done it, but… “I don’t know if I can.”

“Why not?” Victor asked, squinting at the paper hanging on the wall next to them. “Your calendar says the final withdrawal date isn’t until Saturday.”

Yuuri was well aware of the first withdrawal deadline (the one that didn’t require written instructor approval) - it screamed in angry red computer print on the University issued calendar. The same color red as Dr. Clark’s prized grading pen, which marked less frequently now on his assignments. He had been making progress in the class, and the thought of having to formally, officially _quit_ after having put in so much time, after sacrificing so much of his life, made Yuuri shudder.

“I just can’t.”

“Is it required?”

Yuuri bit his lip. “N-no. Not really at least.”

“Then why can’t you just drop it, like you said?” Victor pushed, gesturing into the air with his free hand.

Yuuri took in several deep breaths. “Because I’m the one who signed up for this class, I’m the one who wanted to go to school in the first place. I should be able to understand this material - I just…my other classmates can do it just fine.”

“But they aren’t you! They don’t have the same things going on that you do,” Victor argued. “Look, Yuuri, there’s a reason why so many different majors and fields of study exist. Everyone has things that they are good at, and everyone has things that they struggle with. It doesn't make you stupid or ‘less than’ if this one class is giving you a hard time.

“You can’t compare yourself too much to people around you. Your ‘best’ will never be the same as their ‘best’. And that’s okay. Trying ‘your best’ in this class is stopping you from reaching your goals in other areas of your life.”

“I know,” Yuuri sighed in frustration. “But if I drop it, everyone will know…” _that I’m inadequate,_ Yuuri finished in his head.

Victor smiled gently at him. “Yes, that’s unavoidable. They’ll notice you’re not in class, but it’s not really any of their business. Think about everything you can do with that time,” Victor encouraged. 

Yuuri had been thinking about everything he could do with that time, all of which were positive and made him feel good about himself and his life. A few moments of silence passed, only broken by the soft sounds of their inhales and exhales.

“It’ll make me look weak,” Yuuri whispered, his final fear laid bare between them. 

“Oh Yuuri,” Victor said softly, squeezing Yuuri’s hand more tightly in his own. “No one thinks you’re weak. Especially not me.”

Yuuri let his forehead fall to Victor’s shoulder as a light wave of relief passed over him. He wasn’t quite sure why, but it had been important to him that Victor wouldn't think he was weak for dropping the class. Victor echoed a lot of the thoughts that Yuuri had been having about the class, somehow giving them more legitimacy. 

Yuuri recognized that most of his anxiety form the class resulted from how it impacted other parts of his life that he cared more about. And Victor saw that as a valid reason for Yuuri to want to free himself. He didn’t think that Yuuri was stupid or weak for wanting to drop it, in fact he seemed to think quite the opposite. 

Yuuri had never once used the word ‘failure’ to describe himself, not even on his worst days of practice at the rink. Not until he took this class, that is. He felt the familiar anger with himself for letting this one experience alter his view of himself so dramatically. It was time to let go.

Yuuri picked his head up off of Victor and brought their faces level. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Victor asked.

“First thing tomorrow, I’m going to talk to my counselor,” Yuuri decided.

Yuuri watched as relief flooded Victor’s features. He leaned over and planted a kiss the to the center of Yuuri’s forehead as he said, “Good. I’m proud of you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiled as he nuzzled his face into Victor’s neck, finally allowing Victor to pull him into a proper hug. He returned it this time, squeezing extra hard in apology and thanks. Victor stroked his hair lightly, sending light shivers down Yuuri’s spine. Yuuri inhaled, filling himself up with Victor, and exhaled everything he didn't need. 

“Done with these?” Victor asked, removing one of his arms to gesture to the abandoned stack of papers on the bed next to them. 

Yuuri nodded. “Y-yeah. I’m done. I don’t need them anymore,” he stated firmly.

He heard Victor hum in approval as they separated. Yuuri ran his palms up and down his thighs to get rid of the last bit of evidence of his anxiety, watching as Victor reached over and closed his laptop, moving it and Yuuri’s readings to the bedside table. Some of the pages slid off due to the slant of the laptop, spilling underneath his bed. 

“Oh, sorry,” Victor said. 

Yuuri held him back from trying to pick up the pages. Instead, he reached over to grab the largest packet. Yuuri ripped out the staple, drew in a deep breath, and threw the pile of paper into the air. He watched as they fluttered at uneven paces to the floor. Their ordering was destroyed, never to be reassembled again. He let out a breathy laugh as the last one landed in front of the small trash can. 

“Feel better?” Victor asked, a light smile tugging at his lips.

Yuuri nodded and resisted the urge to finish what he had started - he didn’t want to waste any more of his time on this class, including cleaning up a larger mess of papers. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested instead.

Victor rearranged them so they were laying on their sides, face to face. He kissed the back of Yuuri’s hand that he had pulled up between them. Yuuri smiled as he wiggled a bit closer to Victor’s inviting warmth.

“Can I…can I kiss you?” Victor asked after a few moments of silence.

“Yes,” Yuuri smiled, a new warmth finding his cheeks. This time, it was welcomed because Victor put it there. 

Victor inched his face across the pillow, stopping only when their noses touched. He brought his hand up to lightly caress Yuuri’s cheek before sealing their lips together for a chaste kiss. 

While he was certainly feeling better, Yuuri’s anxiety hadn’t dissipated quite enough to allow him to enjoy anything more than a quick peck, as much as he wanted to. Instead, he coaxed Victor onto his back and curled up against his side. 

“Can you read to me? If you aren’t too tired?” he asked, tracing patterns onto Victor’s chest. 

Victor hummed in amusement. “Sure - but the book I’m reading is in Russian.”

Yuuri thought that sounded absolutely perfect. “I just want to hear your voice right now.”

“Okay,” Victor agreed. “Do you want me to tell you what’s going on?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, just read. Please.”

Victor’s voice was deep and rolled smoothly over the unfamiliar words. Yuuri was absolutely exhausted, emotionally and physically. But he felt a deep burn of serenity throughout his body as he laid there with Victor, listening to his voice and his heart beating below him. For the first time in weeks, Yuuri felt settled. 

He eventually allowed his eyes to flutter closed. The strange sounds and syllables cascaded over him, soothing him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next update might be slightly delayed as I'll likely be spending next weekend with a friend. Till next time, be kind to yourselves!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me through the last chapter and a half! This chapter is much shorter than usual (my apologies!), but I think it’s just the right length for what it is. I was going to include events from NHK, but the flow wasn't right so I decided to listen to my instincts and keep them separate. (also this little chapter was unexpectedly difficult to write and I don’t even know how many versions of this have existed over the last two weeks). 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for your support and lovely comments. Enjoy!!!!!!

The fall breeze whipped through Yuuri’s hair as he burst through the revolving doors. Victor was sitting on the bench where he had left him, flicking his thumbs across his phone screen. He stood when he saw Yuuri approach and Yuuri smiled, breaking into a light jog. Victor held out his arms and Yuuri all but jumped into them, squeezing his arms tightly around Victor’s middle. 

“How do you feel?” Victor asked. 

“Good. I…really good,” Yuuri sighed into his chest. “I…there was a moment when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to do it, but…”

“Here we are,” Victor soothed, running his hands up and down Yuuri’s arms in comfort. 

“Here we are,” Yuuri echoed in agreement. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there amidst the other students passing from one class to the next, but he found that he didn’t care. The stress was melting away bit by bit and he was feeling more like himself with each passing minute. With each inhale and each exhale. It was over, he told himself.

“Thank you,” he finally said, pulling away to look up at Victor. 

Though less prominent now than earlier that morning, the delicate skin under his eyes was still darker and puffier than Yuuri was used to seeing. He knew his own looked the same, probably a bit worse for wear, lingering evidence of the experience they had shared. Victor had stayed up with Yuuri through everything. Victor had sat with him as he fought with himself, had helped him sort out the truths from the lies born out of his anxiety. He hadn’t always said or done the right things - in fact at one point he had made Yuuri’s panic slightly worse - but in the end, he stayed.

Yuuri steered them over to a nearby bench, situated under one of the more vibrantly colored trees on campus. “I really needed that last push. I was…my mind was being so loud, for a very long time,” Yuuri said as they sat down.

“Was it…was it always that bad, like last night?” Victor asked quietly as he busied himself massaging the muscles of Yuuri’s hand. 

“Sometimes, yeah,” Yuuri admitted. “And sometimes…sometimes it was worse. Like that one assignment I told you about last night.”

“So all of those times you canceled our Skype dates…Yuuri, I always imagined you were just taking another hour to study - an extra peaceful hour in the library or something. If I’d have known that…that it was like _this_ …”

Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand lightly in his. “I’m sorry for canceling so much…I just couldn’t - “

Victor’s eyes snapped to his, wide and frantic. “Oh Yuuri,” he said, voice bordering on desperate, “all of those times you called me - I knew that there was something…knew you sounded a bit…I should have known something was wrong, and I - ”

Yuuri lurched, shaking his head quickly in protest. “I-it’s okay, Victor. I’m…I…I should have just told you,” he said. 

“Why didn't you?”

Yuuri sighed. “I didn’t want to bother you with it, I didn’t want to have to think about it when we talked. Talking to you is always the best part of my day, especially on the days when I would get so lost my own head. I didn’t want to worry you with all of it.”

His pulse started to normalize as Victor offered him a soft smile. “Yuuri, you’re my best friend, my boyfriend, my partner. I’m supposed to worry about you, supposed to care about things like this with you. I want you to feel like you can come to me with things like this, before they get bad. Even if I can’t help, even if you just tell me in passing - which I guess you did…but even if it’s something you don’t want to talk about, I want to know what that thing is,” he paused as a light laugh escaped his lips. “I want to know what we aren’t talking about. Like actually know.”

Yuuri couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips during Victor’s ramblings. Victor was incredibly, yet unexpectedly, attractive in his inelegance.

“What?” Victor asked, noticing his smile.

“I like being all of those things to you,” Yuuri blushed. Victor smiled back, glancing down at their joined hands. “And I know, I know I can and should tell you about this stuff, and I want to…it’s just…” his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words again. 

“I guess I didn’t realize it was a problem until it was, if that makes any sense? I thought I had it under control. I’ve always struggled a bit with anxiety, but this…this was…” his voice trailed off. “I can usually manage it on my own, and I didn’t…and I didn’t want you to think…” his eyes dropped to his feet. 

Victor pulled Yuuri’s chin up to meet his gaze. “Did you really think that? That I would think that you were weak?” he breathed.

Yuuri bit his lip and remained silent. He could hear the hurt in Victor’s voice, could see it flicker in his eyes. He looked off to the side as he thought. At the moment it had been so important for him to know that Victor wouldn’t find him weak, but where had that need even come from? 

“Yuuri, I don’t know what I did…why you would think that but,” Victor drew both of his hands up to cradle Yuuri’s face, his thumbs brushing his cheek bones lightly. “I could never think of you as weak. And that’s the truth. Please, please believe me.”

Yuuri saw sincerity in Victor’s eyes as he nodded. 

“When I was struggling last year, the only thing that kept me going was knowing that I could share every thought with you, no matter what it was. Even when that thought was that I was going to retire, you stayed by my side and you _cared_. You were honest and you fought with me, _for me_.”

Victor paused, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s part of what made me realize that I wanted to be with you,” he blushed. “Please, let me take care of you, like you’ve done for me.” 

Yuuri felt his cheeks burn. He knew that there was no way Victor could possibly be aware of the deeper meaning laced into the words he spoke. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have said it, but that fact did little to stop the flutter of Yuuri’s heart. Their relationship was still young, still growing, as evidenced by their current conversation. 

He remembered the conversation he had with Minako, nearly a year ago now, when he had been so afraid of change. _‘I don’t think there is ever a path that would mean you walking without each other,’_ she had said. He realized now that they existed in a forest of paths, both cut and uncut. There had never been just one possibility with Victor, never just one straight line to a single end. 

Yuuri brought his hand to Victor’s face, pulling every so lightly until their lips met. He held him there for several long, affectionate kisses before pulling away. Victor’s cheeks were pink and the blue of his irises were thinner than before. It took a lot of strength for Yuuri not to dive right back in, but there was something he wanted to do first. 

With a sigh, he pulled them both to their feet and resumed their walk back to the dorms. “There’s something I want to show you,” Yuuri murmured. “Will you come?”

“Always.”

xXx

Yuuri glided to the center of the ice. He could feel the intensity of Victor’s stare, thick with anticipation and curiosity, as he worked twisted his hips in small motions, staring down at the pristine surface below him. There was one path in the forest of life that they had been seeking out together, but hadn’t quite found yet. He was ready now, ready to clear whatever obstacles remained, so that they could get there. 

Yuuri bent at the waist as the music started, swiftly blooming back up with a few beating pulses of his arms - like the wings of a bird. He couldn’t help but smile through his open spread eagle, tipping his head back to look at the sky. His movements were big and broad, like paint brushes on an empty canvas. His jumps were fluid and his spins were tight and clean. 

Yuuri felt strong and lithe as he danced, free and uninhibited. All of the peppy shifts in direction were sharp and he teased them from his skates with ease. This was the Yuuri he had wanted Victor to see at Skate America - the Yuuri worthy of competing on the world stage with Victor. The Yuuri who made music with his body, who couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at his mouth after landing a big jump. The Yuuri who loved skating nearly as much as the man watching him. The Yuuri that left Victor’s jaw hanging slack, left his eyes wide and sparkling. The Yuuri that Victor called ‘beautiful’ and ‘mesmerizing’ and ‘amazing’. 

For the first time in weeks, Yuuri actually, truly believed that he could be all of those things. During Skate America he had felt shaken and disappointed, and he knew that those feelings were reflected in his performance. It wasn’t something that could be entirely blamed on his tweaked ankle - though it had limited him to an extent, he still could have put on an honest skate driven by emotions. When he reviewed the videos with Celestino, there was absolutely nothing there on his face other than a few frowns from discomfort. His movements looked rushed and sloppy in urgency, frantic to just get off the ice. 

But now Yuuri believed things could be different. He actually really liked his programs this year - he was proud of all of the time he had put into learning and expanding them. It was time to show that off, time to show everyone that he belonged with them on the ice. Now, in this moment, Yuuri was beautiful, mesmerizing, amazing, and _free_. He knew that there might be moments when the anxiety and doubt would revisit him - he wasn’t naive enough to think that he had conquered it for good. 

_‘As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind.’_

The quote echoed from somewhere in his memory, completely relevant in the moment. Had he dropped the class sooner, after a single footstep, maybe things would have been different. But that had not been the case - he had walked more than one footstep, thought more than one thought. 

How had the rest of it gone? Yuuri knew there was more to it. _‘To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again.’_ He listened to the sounds of his steel blades as he picked up more and more speed, tracing the ghosts of his previous practices long wiped away. 

_‘To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.’_

He launched into the triple jump combination he and Celestino had been planning to unveil this season, its debut delayed due to Yuuri’s lack of confidence. Not anymore. _‘I am beautiful, mesmerizing, amazing, and free,’_ he repeated to himself. 

He heard his own name, echoing around the rink as he landed it sliding easily into his final set of spins. With a final flourish, Yuuri wound his way up to his ending stance. He looked over to where Victor was standing. His expression was so bright that Yuuri could see it even without his glasses. As he drew nearer to the wall, he couldn’t help but tear up as the joyous became more crisp and clear. Yuuri had done that with his skating. 

“Your free leg was sloppy,” Victor joked through his smile. 

“Oh, shut up,” Yuuri sighed as he leaned forward, chasing after his plush lips. 

Victor brought his hands to cover Yuuri’s on the edge of the wall. Yuuri had meant for it to be a quick and teasing kiss, but after their lips met…he pulled Victor’s bottom lip between his teeth, finally having enough room inside of himself for things like desire. 

“Any more notes, _coach_? Or do you want to head back?” Yuuri teased.

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Your quad sal was slightly under-rotated - “

“Barely!”

“But that step sequence, those spins, that jump combination…” 

Yuuri pulled them back together again, uncaring as the the toes of his skates clunked into the wall as they kissed.

xXx

Yuuri pressed Victor more deeply into the mattress as he teased his lips open, swallowing the little gasps Victor made as he pressed their bared bodies closer and closer together. Victor’s hands were hot against his back as they kneaded into his flesh. Yuuri trailed his lips down Victor’s neck, sucking lightly at all the places he knew made Victor come undone, not enough to bruise, but enough so the skin turned a delicious pink hue. 

He heard Victor’s breath catch in his chest as his fingers started to tease at the waist band of Victor’s pants. It was an unspoken question posed by Yuuri, which Victor answered with a breathy _’Yes’_ and a lift of his hips. He paused to remove his own as well, wanting to feel all of Victor against all of himself. He was feeling emotionally open and vulnerable after their heart-to-heart on the bench and needed the physical intimacy to find balance.

Victor grabbed his hips and pulled them together, gasping as he ground himself up against Yuuri’s length. Yuuri planted his forearms on either side of Victor’s head, lifting himself only enough so their foreheads could connect. Their hips moved faster, in tandem as their breathing came faster and deeper. Yuuri eventually willed himself to fumble through his drawer for lube, taking his time to slick both of their lengths so they could slide together more easily.

Yuuri watched Victor’s face carefully as he ground against him, treasuring each look of passion, noting how much more intensely his moans came when he locked his gaze with Yuuri’s. He his slowed his hips, listening as Victor let out a choked whine of his name. He blushed as he wondered what it might feel like if their positioning was slightly different, if he were sliding inside of Victor rather than over him. His hips stuttered to a halt, pressing down into Victor as he tried to hold back against the tension pooling in his abdomen. 

He gasped lightly as Victor nipped playfully at his lips. “Show me, Yuuri,” Victor pleaded after he pulled away. “You’re so beautiful like this. Please…”

Yuuri dragged them both off to his tiny shower after they were finally able to move. Victor had him practically melting as he massaged Yuuri’s tired muscles under the warm spray, which was likely a key reason why Yuuri ignored Victor’s criticism of his towels being too coarse for his fair skin. They climbed back into bed without bothering with pajamas. 

“I missed laying with you after, like this,” Victor smiled, tracing patterns along Yuuri’s skin. 

Yuuri hummed in agreement, stroking his fingers easily through Victor’s hair. They laid together in comfortable silence, Victor’s cheek pressed into Yuuri’s shoulder, their legs criss-crossed and tangled in the sheet.

“Victor?”

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri nudged Victor’s knee with his own in amusement - one of their longer standing inside jokes from when Victor first introduced him to instant messaging on the computer. It had been their little ‘secret code’ to confirm their identities after Yuuri had once caught Mari chatting with Victor on his account, pretending to be him. There had been name calling and hair pulling and both of them had lost their computer privileges for an entire week after their parents had found them. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier, in the car?”

“Mmm, I said a lot of things I meant. You’ll have to be more specific,” Victor replied, nipping at the skin right below Yuuri’s collar bone. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “About my program - that if I had…just like that at Skate America…”

“Yes,” Victor confirmed immediately.

“You weren’t just saying that?”

Victor propped himself up, bringing his face level with Yuuri’s. “Prove it to yourself, Yuuri. Skate like you did today in Miyagi next month and see what medal you take home.”

Yuuri nodded stole a quick kiss from Victor before reaching over to flip off the lights. He had mixed feelings about knowing that, no matter how well he skated at the NHK Trophy, he wouldn’t qualify for the Grand Prix Final. There was regret, the slight nag that he had let himself and Victor down at Skate America. But there was also an unexpected sense of freedom - with the pressure of qualifying lifted from his shoulders, Yuuri felt free to skate the way he wanted. And he was excited to show everyone what he was capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote Yuuri remembers this chapter is from Thoreau - 'As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.'


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your sweet and encouraging comments - Yuuri is very lucky to have had all of you in his corner the last few chapters!

_**November 22-25, 2012: NHK Trophy, Rifu, Miyagi, Japan** _

 

 **IceCastleMadonna** tagged you in a photo  
**IceCastleMadonna** mentioned you in a comment:  
“@katsuki-y - Your three biggest fans are ready to cheer you on!”

 **v-nikiforov** mentioned you in a comment:  
“@IceCastleMadonna I have that title! They can fight me for @katsuki-y”

 **Yutopia-Katsuki** tagged you in a photo  
**Yutopia-Katsuki** mentioned you in a comment:  
“Those outfits look familiar @IceCastleMadonna. Perhaps inspired by these costumes @katsuki-y ?”

 

 **[Mari, 07:00]** Get out of bed and come get breakfast with us!  
**[Mari, 07:10]** Seriously…Minako and I came all this way to see you!

 

 **[Phichit, 09:30]** Yuuuurrriiiiiii!!!! Why did I spend so much time walking you through Instagram if you aren’t going to document your trips?!  
**[Phichit, 09:30]** I need the details!  
**[Phichit, 09:30]** Oh, and good luck today!

 

 **[Victor, 10:00]** xoxoxo

 **[Yuuri, 10:00]** xoxoxoxo  
**[Yuuri, 10:00]** I got the flowers…you really didn’t have to

 **[Victor, 10:01]** Did you like them??  
**[Victor, 10:01]** and of course I did! It’s tradition!!

 **[Yuuri, 10:01]** they’re perfect ♡

 **[Victor, 10:02]** you're perfect ♡

 **[Yuuri, 10:02]** will you watch today?

 **[Victor, 10:02]** Of course!

 **[Yuuri, 10:02]** I'm really excited. Today feels…I feel really good

 **[Victor, 10:02]** You’re going to be incredible, solnyskho. I know it.

 

Yuuri watched the arena lights fracture as they touched the metallic threads woven into his white shirt, splitting into thousands of individual rays with each shrug of his shoulders. Victor said it made him look like silver coins glittering at the bottom of a well - tens of thousands of wishes just waiting to come true. He tapped his right toe into the ice and raised his left arm up over his head, bending it so his palm could rest just between his shoulder blades. It was time to pluck a coin from the well.

He felt his heart beat - once, twice - before the music started. Yuuri fell in love with the piece more and more, with each longing note drawn from the cello. _It’s beautiful,’_ he had told Celestino, _but how could anyone ever skate to that?_ So many skaters kept their short programs quick and lively - how could he possibly do justice to the immensely powerful story contained in those notes in less than three minutes?

Celestino pushed back, arguing that a well written dust cover should leave a person aching for more. Teasing didn’t have to only lay in the realm of sexuality - skating glimpses of an emotional life could provoke even stronger emotions. Soft and sad didn’t have to mean boring. Celestino challenged him to create something special, to contrast the slow sweeping melody with quick and frantic spins, with powerful jumps. 

The trick, he told Yuuri, was to make them look effortless. Otherwise, it would look completely out of sync with the music. It was what part of what brought down his component and interpretation score at Skate America. His performance had been quoted as ‘confusing’ and ‘jarring’ by ISU correspondents. 

Today, Yuuri could feel every single desire, each one of the thousands of wishes sitting at the bottom of the well. They’d been there for so long, lured into the crystal waters with a promise of divine intervention only to be trapped there with more and more voices as time went on. But he was there now, he could hear them whispering through his being as he moved, trying to give each of them a chance to get noticed and granted. 

Yuuri was an elegant dancer, a beautiful skater, and he knew he could raise the voice of at least one wish so it could be heard that day. He had already selected a voice for this performance, long before he started the opening choreographic sequence. The voice for today was his own, wishing for a gentle mind free of judgement, for the opportunity to perform in a way that would make him proud of himself. Because he’d been so mean, so cruel to himself lately, and he just wanted to shine.

 _‘Prove it to yourself,’_ Victor had said. 

Though Victor’s visit hadn’t been a complete cure-all for the havoc caused by his anxiety, the reaffirmation that Victor knew and wanted to help - that he cared - did wonders for Yuuri in his residual moments of panic. He called Victor often over the last few weeks, and it had gotten easier and easier to open up and get to the root of what was happening. And Victor always met him where he was. Their relationship had grown so much - Yuuri had grown so much - over the last few weeks, and he was ready to explore that growth now.

Yuuri remembered the way this music had made him feel the first time he listened to it, how he’d come to a complete stop in the middle of the rink and just stood there, listening as a tear rolled down his cheek. Yuuri smiled as he spread his arms and legs wide, leaning into that feeling as he prepared to pull the slightly more uplifting melody from his body. 

He realized a second too late that he was perhaps leaning a bit too dramatically into his spread eagle. Yuuri blinked and choked in a gasp of surprise as his palms hit the ice. It was only out of habit that he was able to immediately draw himself back up onto his feet, skipping over the planned triple axel and sailing smoothly into the flying sit spin. His concentration and awareness picked up a bit more, shaken from the completely unexpected touch down before a mandatory element of the short program - he’d have to add the axel back in on the fly later on in the program.

But the sit spin lead so fluidly into the step sequence, which lead into his combination jump…but if he changed the step sequence just a bit…triple axel…a bit more foot work…triple flip, loop, triple toe…some recovery skating…quad-turned-triple sal…and maybe, just maybe if he cut a few rotations off of each of the spins in the next sequence…

Yuuri sank down to one knee just in time for the music to end and was barely able to hold himself upright for more than a few seconds before collapsing forward, struggling to catch his breath. Had he just…that was absolutely the most ridiculous burst of instinctive skating… 

“Well, that certainly wasn’t what we’ve been practicing,” his coach mused softly as they sat together in the kiss and cry. “What happened, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri blushed, not ready to admit the true extent of the emotional place he had been in. He busied his lips with his water as he continued to calm the pace of his inhales and exhales as they sat there, waiting for the judges to finish their final tallies. His phone buzzed lightly inside of his bag - several times in rapid succession - Victor’s signature style. While Yuuri itched to read them, he was aware of the cameras focused on him. Instead, he smiled and waved at their lenses, knowing that somewhere out there, Victor would still be watching. 

Another faint buzz drew Celestino’s questioning eye, but there was no time to explain as the crowd suddenly erupted into cheers once more as a new row appeared on the score board. Yuuri squinted at the monitor in front of him, jealous that so many others knew before he himself did. He barely had time to recognize that the numbers were certainly a personal best for him before Celestino was pulling him tightly to his side. 

By the time the press had finally let him go, the final scores for the day had posted. He was in third.

Yuuri wandered back out into the arena lobby after taking his time to clean his skates and change into the comfort of his sweats. His muscles were still speaking to him and his chest was still burning, and Yuuri promised to take the time to thank them after this was all over. He easily picked out Celestino from the crowd of skaters, coaches, and family. He smiled politely as several of them offered him congratulations for his performance that day, all the while yearning for the peace of his own room and perhaps Victor’s voice. 

“I’m meeting up with Minako and your sister for dinner and drinks. You staying in for dinner, like usual?” his coach asked, as if he could read Yuuri’s mind. 

Yuuri opened his mouth to agree when a new voice joined the mix. “Actually Coach Cialdini, I was hoping Yuuri would grab a quick bite with me for dinner.”

Yuuri turned to find a smiling face leaning against the wall next to them. “Chris,” Yuuri breathed in surprise. 

Before that afternoon’s warm-ups, it had been years since the the last time they had met. Christophe Giacometti, Swiss national champion, currently ranked in the top five skaters in the world. Known for landing the first quad lutz in an ISU sanctioned event and for his power skating, usually dripping in innuendo. It was said that he once seduced the sandals off of a sculpture of a Goddess in Athens with a single wink of his eye and sway of his hip. 

(Though Yuuri had it on good authority that Chris was really just a lovable dork who ‘in real life’ opted to wear glasses over contacts, spoiled his cat more than any lover he’d ever had, and preferred to seduce through his exquisite cooking rather than exotic dancing.) 

“Umm, I usually don’t go out the night before a performance,” he smiled, in what he hoped was polite refusal. 

Chris just smiled harder his eyes sparkling as they assessed him. “Yes, Victor said as much.”

Yuuri felt his cheeks start to heat up as Celestino stifled sudden cough into his fist. With that distraction, he barely registered that Chris had tossed something his way until his hands were fumbling to keep it from meeting the ground. 

“Read them,” Chris instructed.

Yuuri tapped his finger to the dark screen, which lit up to a text message thread. 

_Yesterday_  
**[Victor, 12:00]** Have you seen him yet?  
**[Victor, 12:00]** Black hair, glasses, totally gorgeous

 **[Chris, 12:15]** My flight just landed, I’ve barely seen anything yet  
**[Chris, 12:15]** _[picture of sake flavored Kit Kats]_ Do you think these are any good?

 **[Victor, 14:00]** CHRIS!  
**[Victor, 14:00]** HAVE. YOU. SEEN. MY. YUURI?

 **[Chris, 14:20]** _[grainy picture of Yuuri falling asleep into a mug of green tea at the hotel bar]_ You mean that sleeping beauty?

 **[Victor, 14:22]** (*♡*)  
**[Victor, 14:22]** Go say hi! I want you to meet

 **[Chris, 14:22]** Something tells me that this is not the right time  
**[Chris, 14:22]** BUT I promise I will sometime this weekend. All of us end up going out for dinner together at some point

 **[Victor, 14:23]** Yuuri doesn’t usually do the group dinner thing

 **[Chis, 14:23]** Then I’ll take him out myself

 **[Victor, 14:23]** !!!!!!

Yuuri must have been smiling or gone glassy eyed because Chris was soon grabbing his phone from his hands. “Hopeless, the both of you,” he said with a fond shake of his head.

“Is seven okay?” Yuuri found himself asking. 

“Oh thank god - yes. I’ll meet you in the lobby,” Chris sighed as he frantically typed something into his phone. “Maybe now he’ll let me have some peace.”

xXx

Yuuri heard the pleasant ding of the elevator as it opened up to the warm chatter of the lobby - now lit to provide some evening ambiance for its guests. He plopped down in one of the plush arm chairs after doing a quick visual confirmation that Chis had not arrived yet. He wasted some time scrolling through Victor’s Instagram feed as he waited. 

It felt strange to have something to do other than skate, to have dinner plans that didn’t involve over-priced grilled chicken and vegetables delivered to his room the night before a performance. By the time he started attending international events in the junior division, he was already older then many of his competitors. He’d never really had the opportunity or desire to bond with any of them, and instead chose the more comfortable option to join Minako or his coach for dinner. Or Takeshi, but that was different - he was basically family.

While his current situation was out of his comfort zone, Yuuri was actually kind of excited. At Skate America, he’d had absolutely no one there that he had ever met before - not that he would have been in any shape to accept a dinner offer that weekend anyway - but there was no one that Yuuri felt he could even wish good luck or chat with on the sidelines. He’d always had that, at least, in his junior days.

A pair of warm hands dropped to his shoulders causing him to drop his phone into his lap. “You are just as lost as Victor when you’re apart,” Chris purred from above him.

Yuuri quickly closed out of the picture that Victor had taken of them basking in the sunshine near science hall, and stood to shake his hand. Chris laughed lightly. “It’s adorable, trust me. You have no idea how much easier my life is now that you two are finally able to talk to each other about your feelings. I’m getting so much more sleep at night.”

Yuuri smiled through the heat rising in his cheeks. “Umm..You’re welcome? Or Thank you?”

“I’ll accept both,” Chris laughed. “Well, shall we?”

Yuuri nodded and pulled on his jacket as they walked out into the crisp evening air. It was easy to talk to Chris - he was one of those people who had a good sense of what questions to ask when, and exactly where changes of conversation were needed. It wasn’t hard to see why Victor was so put out when he wasn’t placed at the same competitions as Chris. 

By the time they reached the restaurant, Yuuri had learned that Chris liked cats and French food, that his parents had a vacation home Greece (and that Yuuri was invited to stay next summer), that he was incredibly allergic to bees, and that he also very much enjoyed dancing on ‘ze pole’. 

“V-victor told you about that?”

“Mmmmm, yes,” Chris started as they took their seats. “But only because I demanded to know what could have possibly derailed our careful planning. Having had also found myself in a similar situation…I forgave him.”

Yuuri fanned out the menu in front of him and took a long sip of the cool water placed before him. 

“I started out doing it just as something fun to do in the off season with a friend. We used to do it together - have you ever pair pole danced, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri barely managed to not choke on his water as Chris’s eyebrows wiggled over the top of his menu. “N-no! My ballet instructor dragged me along to a workshop once. She didn’t like it, but I kept going back,” he rambled. “It was fun? It um, made me feel…”

Chris nodded his head in understanding. 

“Aha, but no, I’ve only ever danced solo, and I’m really not that good at it anyway…”

“Shhhh! Do you hear that,” Chris whispered - Yuuri leaned in automatically. “It’s Victor jumping on a plane to show you just how strongly he disagrees with that statement.”

Their waitress arrived, forcing them to compose themselves enough to order. 

“But really, Yuuri - if you ever do want to try pair dancing…”

“Chris!”

“Hmmm you’re right - Victor would probably not survive. But anyway…the weather this weekend has been exceptional,” Chris sighed as he gracefully transitioned to safer topics.

Yes, Yuuri thought again, it was very, very easy to see why Victor and Chris had become friends.

It wasn’t until their food arrived that Yuuri turned the conversation to something that he had been itching to know. “So, what’s it like to skate with Victor? Like competitively, I mean,” Yuuri asked after they had taken their first few bites.

He already knew what it was like to physically skate with Victor, having done it countless times in the past. He also knew what it felt like to skate for Victor and to watch Victor skate for him, and only for him. Yuuri knew realistically that competing against him would likely be different and he hoped that Chris could share some of his own experience. 

Chris smiled as he sipped at his wine, his eyes shining with something Yuuri couldn’t quite name. Yet, it was familiar, so very familiar. “The best is when you get to skate after Victor. Even with the random seeding for the early events it rarely happens, and never for the free skate - Victor is always the last to skate his long program. But on the occasion when you get to skate your short program right after him…” Chris swore under his breath as a wide smile crossed his face. 

“Skating after him has always been so inspiring - a high like no other. You’ve just witnessed something so amazing, so passionate, and now you want to make people feel the way you just felt.”

Yuuri could hear himself swallow his bite of chicken, one that he didn’t even remember putting in his mouth. His toes flexed in his shoes. Had he been in Hasetsu or Detroit (and preferably not in the middle of a meal with someone) he’d have his skates halfway laced already. Apparently, he was not the only one to be this affected by Victor’s skating.

“The years that Victor was absent were strange,” Chris continued after a few moments, his voice so soft Yuuri barely noticed it over his own thoughts. 

“He was out for less than half a season,” Yuuri said, automatically coming to Victor’s defense.

Chris offered him a sad smile. “Technically, yeah - he missed two events. But after that, can you honestly say he was _there_? Even when he won gold at the Grand Prix last year, he wasn’t. And I know you saw that too, Yuuri.”

Chris paused to refill his wine glass. “I skated after him at the European Championships and put on one of the worst skates of my entire career - my coach was absolutely furious. ‘Where was your fire, Christophe?’ he raged at me in the kiss and cry ‘You looked like you didn’t care at all out there!’ And the truth was…” he sipped his wine, his lips stained purple now. “The truth was, I didn’t.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened as he remembered reading about the ‘oddities’ that were the Euros last year. He had never investigated any further having only picked up the article in the first place in order to read the interview with Victor - it had been during the time when Yuuri had been actively avoiding watching Victor’s competitions, at his own request. So this is what it was, then…

“I was so angry at myself, angry at Victor for not caring. But then, I saw him after the medal ceremony doing an interview, and that’s when I realized that something was going on. And it was serious. I spent the cab ride back to the hotel thinking, and I remembered _you_.”

“Me?” Yuuri choked out, surprised by the pointed look in Chris’s eyes.

“Yes, you. The timid skater from Japan, long time fan of Victor. Some speculated that you might even be friends, though the popular opinion was that he was just a mentor to you. Why, no one could really tell, nor did they ever bother to ask Victor about it,” he scoffed. “But I saw the truth during our little celebration after his GPF victory last year, and in how Victor talked about you even before that. You’ve always been so much more to Victor than that, and you looked at him during dinner and I could see it all. You felt annoyed. Angry. Heartbroken. The more and more I noticed those things in your eyes, the more and more things I noticed about Victor.”

“I went to his room after the medal ceremony at Euros and refused to leave until he told me everything that had been going on that season. We’d always been friendly competitors, but that was the night we became _friends_.”

“O-oh…Victor never said anything about that,” Yuuri admitted.

“Well he certainly told me a lot about you,” Chris smirked. 

Yuuri wiped his mouth as some of his water dribbled through his lips. 

“You ruined a lot of hard work on my part, you know.”

Yuuri felt himself turn beet red. “Y-you’ve said.”

Chris hummed in amusement. “He woke me up at all hours of the night agonizing over details, concerned that he was misreading the signals. ‘Chris, what if he says no?’”

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh at Chris’s impression of Victor. “As if I - did he really say that?” 

Chris rolled his eyes as he nodded. “I hadn’t even realized that Victor had that side to him - the crazed imperfect idiot side. You…you’re good for him, Yuuri.”

“Um…thank you?” Yuuri stammered out, unsure how to process this information.

A moment of silence passed between them as their empty plates were swapped out for their checks. His brain was whirring with questions that were begging to be allowed through his lips. The only thing that stopped Yuuri from asking them now was the knowledge that it would be much more satisfying to hear the answers from Victor himself. To watch him smile as he listed all of the grand romantic gestures he had thought of and rejected. To listen as his voice trailed off while reminiscing the exact moments he almost abandoned all resolve. 

They stood to don their jackets. “And I should thank you too, for bringing him back to the ice. I’ll beat him - actually beat him - one of these days, but I know I only have that chance because of you,” Chris said. 

Unsure of how to respond, or if a response was even expected, Yuuri busied himself doing up his buttons. “But,” Chris continued with a tone that forced Yuuri’s gaze back to his. His face was serious, green eyes staring into brown. “if you ever hurt him - “

“Chris!” Yuuri squeaked. 

Chris’s facade dissolved into a rumble of laughter as the waiter arrived with their checks. “Kidding, kidding,” he gasped as he held the door open. “Kind of.”

Yuuri was spared a response by his phone ringing in his pocket. Chris swiped it from him immediately after seeing that it was Victor’s face on the screen. “I’m not done with your boyfriend yet,” he teased. He winked at Yuuri during the slight pause that followed. “Well, then you shouldn’t have encouraged me to find him.”

Yuuri shuffled his feet along the sidewalk as he continued to listen in amusement to their one-sided bantering. He had talked to Victor earlier, as soon as he could after getting back to his room following the short program. It caught him off guard how excited Victor had sounded after Yuuri told him that he and Chris were meeting for dinner, after he’d finished accepting Yuuri’s light teasing over the string of text messages Chris had revealed to him. 

When asked why, Victor simply said that he thought the pair would get along, and that competitions were always so much better when there was someone there to talk to or to cheer for. And Yuuri realized that he was right - he was already looking forward to the free skate that much more.

 

 **christophe-ge** tagged you in a photo  
**christophe-ge** mentioned you in a comment:  
“I’ve never been part of a hotter podium crew - @katsuki-y @g-popovich”

 **v-nikiforov** mentioned you in a comment:  
“zvezda moya ♡ zolotse @katsuki-y”

 

**_November 29th, 2012_ **

Yuuri blushed fiercely at the cacophony of noises coming through his headphones - happy birthday being sung in Japanese, half-English-half-Russian, and dog barks from his favorite people. He’d awoken that morning feeling a bit lonely, which was odd for Yuuri as spending his birthday away from his family hadn’t felt like such a big deal last year. It had just been another day. 

They clapped as he blew out the candle on the cupcake Mitch had delivered earlier that evening, at Victor’s instruction, feeling only slightly silly about the situation. “You really didn’t have to do this,” he said for the tenth time. 

“Too bad, little brother,” Mari joked. 

“Well I’m not eating this in front of you,” Yuuri laughed as he pushed the plate across his desk for later. “I’m also pretty sure lighting that candle was against campus policy.”

“Just open your gifts.”

“Do mine first!” Victor chirped. 

Yuuri stood to collect the small pile of boxes that had been arriving for him all week, smiling as he caught his mother complementing Victor’s singing voice. He turned just in time to see Victor blushing in thanks. 

“Music runs in their family,” Minako reminded her. 

Yuuri removed the exterior shipping box to find a slim package wrapped in gold foil. There was a white bow tied neatly across the center, holding a few sprigs of dried lavender in place. Victor shifted eagerly on his end of the camera as Yuuri started to open it. 

“‘Happy birthday to my Yuuri!’” He read aloud from the tag. “‘Please throw your other ones away - leave them in the nearest trash bin (or burn them). Wish I could celebrate your birthday in person. Victor.’”

“You left off all of the hugs and kisses,” Victor pouted. 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. “Xoxoxoxoxo,” he paused for a dramatic breath, “‘xoxo, Victor.’”

Mari and Minako rolled their eyes in unison as Yuuri set the card aside and peeled back the silver tissue paper. He gasped as he removed a pair of sleek black practice gloves. He slid them on immediately and flexed his fingers a few times - a perfect fit. The material hugged him like a second skin, lined with pure, soft…warmth. There was extra padding over the heel of his palm to absorb falls, and barely there raised grips where he might need to grab the ice or skate blades with his fingers.

His current pair was several years old and had become loose in their age, often sagging annoyingly around his wrists. They were thin and riddled with tiny (and not so tiny) holes. Yuuri was embarrassed that receiving this better pair probably meant that Victor had noticed the state of his gloves…yet…the fact that Victor had noticed something so small brought a bigger smile to his face. 

“Do you like them?” Victor asked in his silence.

“Yes,” he breathed, momentarily forgetting that it was a multi-party video chat. “I…they’re…perfect.”

“I’m glad,” Victor sighed, as if relieved. “I may have worn them while practicing. Just a few times - so it could be like I’m there with you when you practice.”

Yuuri barely resisted the urge to bring both of his hands to his face. “Th-thank you. I love them, really,” he replied instead. 

He took them off carefully and immediately went over to his skating bag to remove his old gloves. Victor cheered as Yuuri made a show of dropping them into his waste basket. At Mari’s prompting, he grabbed the remaining boxes. “They go together,” his mother said excitedly. 

“Mmm, yes your mother was very proud of this idea,” his father agreed. 

Yuuri smiled as he opened the box addressed in Minako’s script. Inside was a broad assortment of tea, all of his favorites that he had been missing from home. “Oh, this is wonderful - thank you,” he sighed, lifting one of the boxes to smell it. 

The next box was marked as fragile and Yuuri opened it carefully. “Vicchan said you have access to a stove?” His mother asked. 

“In our suite,” he replied as he pulled out a heavy object wrapped in several layers of bubble wrap. 

At the center of it all was a nice tea pot, not unlike the ones they used at the onsen. Yuuri unwrapped one of the smaller packages to reveal a mug - one of the ones made by their neighbors in town. “This is great. You really didn’t have to…”

“If we had to listen to you complain one more time about the lack of good tea…Yuuri, please it was for all of our sanity,” his father laughed. 

They all chatted for a little while longer - about the interesting guests his parents had been hosting at the onsen, Minako’s new dance classes, how Yuuko and the girls were doing, Victor’s upcoming performances at the Grand Prix Final. “We’ll all be watching!” his mother assured.

Victor smiled warmly, catching Yuuri’s gaze with a sparkle in his eye as he gave his thanks. “Well, I have to go and take Makka out for her walk before she gets too lazy,” Victor apologized. “Call me later, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri nodded as they all said their goodbyes. 

“Is it just us now, Yuuri?” Mari asked after a few moments.

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, Victor’s line is disconnected.”

“Well there’s actually another part to your gift,” Mari explained. “If you check your email, you should see it.”

“But the tea set was already so nice - I couldn’t possibly -“

“It’s also for Vicchan - your Vicchan,” his mother squirmed in delight, “from all of us, Minako, and Vicchan’s parents. We all pitched in for a gift for the both of you.”

Yuuri laughed as dog-Vicchan started barking from Mari’s lap. He reached behind him for his phone and saw that he did have an email. He stared blankly at its contents for a few long moments before slowly shifting his gaze back to his family. “I don't understand," he said bluntly.

"They're airline tickets for you to go see Victor," Mari sighed.

"But these are...Celestino already booked my flight back to Detroit after Nationals. I can't...this flight leaves from Japan at the same time. How -”

“I’ve already worked it out with Celestino - he trusts you to stay on top of things while you're there. He was able to transfer your original flight over to the weekend of Four Continents, with the assumption that you'd be asked to go,” Minako explained. 

Okay, that answered a few things, but Yuuri was still at a loss. “I don’t…”

“Yuuri,” Minako said pointedly, “I know what happens a few day after Victor's birthday. You’ve been looking forward to this for so long. Don’t you want to be together when they make the announcement?”

Yuuri’s chest tightened and he felt a tear slip down his cheek as he words sunk in. A glance at his calendar confirmed it. Their family's gift to them was for he and Victor to have time together, not only for Victor's birthday, but also on the day that the official ISU World Championship roster would be announced. “Y-yes, sensei, but…I…th-thank you,” he said as he finally managed to move words through the ache in his throat.

Her face softened and Yuuri knew that this was one of those moments that, if they had been doing this exchange in person, she would have pulled him into her arms. They started to say their goodbyes, as it was clear Yuuri needed some time in his own head.

“Oh Yuuri, before you go,” Mari said at the last moment, “Victor doesn’t know you're coming. It was his mother’s idea to keep it a surprise. Minako gave her your number so she’ll be talking to you to coordinate picking you up at the airport, but not a word to Victor.”

Yuuri nodded and with a final goodbye, closed his laptop. He wiped his eyes as he slowly prepared himself for bed. No matter how long he stared at that email over the next few weeks, he knew it wouldn’t truly sink in until Christmas.

**_December 2012 - Japan National Figure Skating Championships_ **

The weekend of Nationals passed in a blur, leaving Yuuri feeling so many different forms of exhausted. The fact that he'd be landing in St. Petersburg rather than Detroit was the only thing that kept him from openly weeping at the prospect of the long plane ride in front of him. He moved as quickly as he could around the hotel room, gathering his few remaining things into his bags. It wasn’t until the last moment, when he was sure everything else was safely stowed away, that he removed the shining gold medal from around his neck. 

Yuuri ran his fingers over it lightly, trying not to get too caught up in its significance. Celestino had even noticed the unexpected lack of reaction from his pupil when it had been awarded. Yuuri had brushed him off with the excuse that he was tired - excited and honored - but incredibly tired. He didn’t expect his coach to understand the true reason why he was holding back in celebrating his victory, his title as National Champion. It wasn’t time for that - there was someone missing from the moment that Yuuri very much wanted there. And until he was, the situation would not be a reality.

He hurriedly finished off the last of the green tea he had snagged from the lobby as he made his way over to the security check point. His departure gate was still fairly empty when he arrived, meaning he was easily able to find a few seats to stretch out on. Yuuri knew he wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep on the flight, but perhaps if he tried, if he pretended hard enough, he could do it. The physical tiredness helped immensely and he was actually able to pass out for the first few hours in the air, but the rest of the time…it was all Yuuri could do to keep his limbs still. 

Everyone was moving so slowly down the jetway, half asleep and half distracted by catching up with what they had missed on their phones. But finally, finally Yuuri was able to fight his way over to baggage claim. It had been a little less than a year and a half since he’d landed in this airport and his knowledge of the Russian alphabet still was next to nothing, but he knew what signs to look for and managed to weave his way around the other travelers with little difficulty. 

He worked his way out into the lobby and immediately caught sight of her long platinum hair. Her face lit up the moment she saw him, her hands flying up to her cheeks. 

“Oh Yuuri! My Vitya will be so excited to see you - he has no idea you're coming, just like we planned!” Yuuri couldn’t help but smile as Mrs. Nikiforov pulled him tightly to her chest. “Well now, let’s get you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zvezda moya = my star  
> Zolotse = my gold
> 
> This chapter covered more time than I originally planned, but I realized that if I didn't we'd all be sitting through a lot of descriptions of skating events...so I chose a few to focus on. It might be surprising that Nationals was sort of glossed over, but hopefully the reasoning will be more clear in the next chapter (and perhaps a bit from the bit we did see of the aftermath in this chapter). EDIT: I'm also invoking my powers as a fanfic writer and am not sticking to the official dates Japan or Russian Nationals :)
> 
> (also I cannot express to you all how excited I am to start writing more chapter content where Yuuri and Victor are together - these last few have been so incredibly difficult, and I truly appreciate every single one of your comments. They really keep me going!)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Yuuri's stay in Russia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! So Yuuri's stay in Russia was supposed to be one chapter, but it soon became clear that it was going to be an absolutely massive chapter, both in length and content. I found what I think is a nice break point to split into two chapters, and I hope you enjoy the first part!
> 
> Thank you all so much for all of your comments, as always - seriously, it always makes my day to read them and they are always so encouraging and sweet. Thank you for taking the time to leave feedback, and for reading, of course ;)

_**December 25-26, 2012** _

Yuuri’s glasses immediately clouded when he stepped into the small entryway of Victor’s childhood home. He would never complain to Victor about being cold ever again. The weather app told him that it was only a few degrees colder here than it was in Detroit, but those few extra sub-zero degrees were each exponentially harsher than the last.

The first thing he noticed when his vital functions came back online was that the Nikiforovs had re-decorated the entry way. An inviting dusty blue replaced the once deep red walls, accented with crisp white edging instead of dark brown. The second thing he noticed was the smell of a home cooked meal.

“It smells amazing in here,” he sighed.

“We’ve been making Vitya’s favorites. Did you eat anything on the flight?”

“A salad.” Somehow the words felt like a dirty confession in the presence of the enticing aromas radiating from the tiny kitchen down the hall.

Mrs. Nikiforov shook her head. “I’ll warm you up a piroshki. Leftovers from last night, but they’ll do.”

“No really, I can wait for dinner later,” he insisted. (If he listened really closely, he could hear the ghost of his childhood self let out a choked sob from around the corner.) 

Mrs. Nikiforov’s eyes flicked over his body, a quick up and down zeroing in near his midsection, as he slipped out of his jacket. Her eyes narrowed and he knew that in a matter of minutes he would be sitting down in front of a plate piping hot food. She opened her mouth and Yuuri knew exactly how her voice would sound - the tone gifted to every woman on the day she became a mother. 

“Two piroshki.”

His stomach betrayed him as it cried out in submission. Mrs. Nikiforov simply sighed as she dragged him by the arm down the hall. Yuuri felt better about accepting the meal when she sat down across from him with her own bowl of soup. 

“You and Vitya get too thin this time of year.”

Yuuri raised the steaming pocket of meat and vegetables to his lips. He barely contained a satisfied moan as the flavors burst across his tongue. By this point in the season he had usually forgotten how deep and complex flavors could be, especially after moving away from home. He immediately went back for another bite and another, eating as if Celestino or Minako were about to jump out of the pantry to swipe it from his hands. He inhaled his food so quickly that his final bite was just as hot as the first.

Mrs. Nikiforov waved her hand passively as he moved to wash up the dishes. “Leave them, please. You must be tired - Vitya said you just won your own competition, and after that long flight…” she rambled. 

Right on cue, Yuuri stifled a deep yawn with his hand and Mrs. Nikiforov smiled knowingly at him. “You said he’d be here at six?” he asked.

“Assuming he stops being difficult.”

Yuuri smiled and followed her down the hall. “Look at me, showing you around our home like a stranger,” she said with a shake of her head, pausing to flick on the lights at the base of the stairs. “You remember which one is Vitya’s, no?” 

“Yes,” he said, gazing up at the walls decorated with family photos and some of Victor’s medals. There were thirteen steps, he knew, separated by a landing that took two (small) steps to cross after the seventh stair. Yuuri smiled, wondering if the Nikiforovs knew how many times he and Victor had snuck up and down those steps after the official ‘lights out’. They probably did - Victor was their son, after all. 

He lifted his suitcase onto the first step and paused to turn back to her. “And um…thank you again. When my family and Minako told me about your plan…I…”

Mrs. Nikiforov grabbed his free hand and squeezed it tightly between both of her own. They were warm and soft, and Yuuri knew that when they separated his hands would smell of vanilla and something floral. “It was our pleasure, Yuuri. I’m just glad we could finally make our Vitya’s birthday wish come true.” 

A small laugh escaped her lips, light and breathy like Victor’s. “I can’t even count how many times we asked him ‘Vitya, what would you like this year?’ And he’d cross his arms across his chest and say ‘Momma, I want Yuuri to be here’ or ‘I want to go to Japan,’” she shook her head. “This little house always felt so empty when you would leave after camp. Vitya would mope around for days. You’ve always made him so happy. What else could a mother ask for?”

Yuuri’s breath hitched in his chest as she pulled him into a tight hug. It went on for far longer than he was used to, but he was glad to have an excuse to not say anything. Words were escaping him at the moment - was there even something to say after those words left the mouth of your boyfri-

Yuuri’s eyes widened in realization. Oh…this was…he’d just…but did it really count as a ‘meet the parents’ if you’ve already known the parents for most of your life? He didn't know, and his brain was too tired to figure it out. He averted his eyes slightly when they finally parted.

“Now please,” she said as she ran a finger under her lower lashes. “you must be exhausted. You need a nap. There are things in the bathroom for you to wash up, if you want to. I know I never feel quite right after such a long flight.”

Yuuri thanked her one last time before he dragged his bag up the stairs and headed to the closed door at the end of the hall. It opened with a slight protest of its hinges and he took a moment to breathe in deeply, letting the memories of so many happy summers flood his mind. The shelves over Victor’s dresser were crowded with trophies and ribbons. He walked closer and reached out to the dried flower crown hanging from the corner of the large vanity mirror.

He turned to the closet next, remembering how he would always ask Victor to show him the stunning costumes protected in their dry cleaning bags. The rod had bowed under the weight of the hangers, Yuuri noticed as he carefully shifted each one. He stopped at one nearer to the back and tugged the zipper down carefully. The large gemstones near the shoulders gleamed in the dim light of the setting sun, coloring the room with small rainbow shimmers. 

He dragged his fingers reverently down the bodice, stopping to finger the material of the half skirt, remembering how entrancing it had been to see the small slip of fabric fluttering freely as Victor danced, spun, and jumped. Even after all of these years, Yuuri had yet to see a more exotic costume on the ice. A shiver ran up his spine as he remembered the first time he saw Victor take to the ice that season, remembered how he had moved. Yuuri had spent hours in front of the mirrors of Minako’s studio trying to replicate the movement of his arms, the delicate elongation of his neck.

Thinking back with a more learned mind, it was probably the first time Yuuri had felt physical attraction towards someone. 

He swayed lightly on his feet, his dry eyes the only evidence that time had remained moving forwards while his memory was moving back. Yuuri carefully zipped up the garment bag and closed the closet doors, breaking the enchantment that was Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri dragged his feet to the bed and curled up on top of the patchwork quilt. He set an alarm on his phone to wake him at five, giving him an hour to freshen up before Victor would arrive for dinner. 

There were several messages waiting for him on his phone, a smattering of congratulations from back home, as well as from Phichit and Mitch. He sent off a quick reply to Minako, letting her know that he made it to the Nikiforov’s. The last message was from Victor, whining about how he was tired and just wanted to stay home and wait for Yuuri’s plane to land in Detroit so they could Skype. 

After carefully considering the time he told Victor his flight left for Detroit, he decided it would be safe to send him a quick message during his ‘layover’. He gently encouraged him to go to dinner - _They’re your parents. You wouldn’t be here without them_ he wrote. Yuuri felt guilty lying to Victor about flights and what he was doing - especially on his birthday - but it would be worth it to see Victor’s face, to be with Victor when they officially announced the World Championship lineup. 

Yuuri silenced his phone and finally allowed his eyes to close, hoping that he could find some good sleep despite his churning excitement. 

xXx

It was so tempting to take a quick peek through the thin panes of glass bordering the front door, but Yuuri reminded himself that it would ruin the full effect of the surprise. Even still, he wanted so badly to throw open the door and run down the drive to tackle Victor into the heaps of snow. He felt like a child dancing on his tiptoes outside of his parents’ room on Christmas morning - which he supposed it actually was…or it was Christmas evening rather…but he was in Russia, and they celebrated it later, didn’t they? He’d be gone by then. In Hasetsu, Christmas was long over, but in Detroit it would still be in full swing.

Yuuri’s internal crisis over whether he was going to miss Christmas this year was short-lived, ending as the muffled rumblings of the Victor’s car ceased, followed by a curt slam of a door and quick footsteps. The bell chimed overhead seconds later. Yuuri drew in a deep breath and pulled at the golden handle on the door.

It was locked.

Yuuri rubbed his palms on his jeans, smiling as he heard a stream of whiny Russian through the thin glass panes. He flipped the lock and pulled open the door. There was a long pause as Victor gaped at him, the slender bottle of red wine threatening to slip through his gloved fingers. 

Yuuri wanted to say something devastatingly suave, but in the end, that just wasn’t Yuuri, and Victor’s face was melting his heart. His blues eyes were sparkling in disbelief, his mouth twitching between expressions of pain and joy. And Yuuri just stood there in equal silence as he tried to remember how to breathe.

“Yuuri…why…how - “

“Vitya!” Mrs. Nikiforov’s voice thundered down the hall. “Get inside now or you’ll be eating borscht popsicles for dinner.”

Yuuri moved aside with an amused smile so that Victor could stumble through the entry way. He reached out to touch Yuuri’s cheek with a still gloved hand as Yuuri pushed the door shut behind them. Yuuri stepped closer, leaning his face into his palm, covering the outside of Victor’s hand with his own. 

“You’re here,” Victor breathed, stroking his thumb in small circles.

“And you’re freezing,” Yuuri teased, finding his voice.

“Why?” 

“Probably because we’re in Russia.”

“Yes, but why are you in Russia?” Victor asked. 

“Birthday gift from our families and Minako,” Yuuri explained as he tipped his face closer to Victor’s. 

Unable to resist any longer, he tugged lightly on Victor’s scarf until he could finally capture his lips in a kiss. They were still a bit cold from the harsh winter night’s wind, as was the tip of his nose which was pressing lightly against Yuuri’s own. He moved his hands to cradle Victor’s face to put some warmth back into his cheeks as he pressed more deeply into him. Victor sighed into him and Yuuri felt the bottle of wine pressing against the small of his back, urging him closer.

“Happy birthday, Victor.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do, zolotse,” Victor said, his brow suddenly furrowing in what Yuuri hoped was mock disapproval. “You told me that you and Celestino were standing in line for tea in Seattle.”

“I was taking a nap in your bed upstairs,” Yuuri confessed apologetically, as he helped Victor out of his scarf and jacket. “Without Celestino.”

“I would hope,” Victor huffed as he kicked off his shoes. 

“Did you bring the wine, Vitya?”

“Mama,” Victor pouted as he kissed each of her cheeks. “You could have told me Yuuri was coming, I would have been here hours ago.”

“Yes, you were being very difficult. I was about to tell you not to come at all and just keep Yuuri to ourselves for the rest of the evening.”

“She’s not kidding,” Mr. Nikiforov’s voice rumbled from the doorway. “But if she had, we couldn’t all do this together.” He caught Yuuri’s eye and smiled in encouragement. All at once, they swarmed around Victor each grabbing at his ears.

Yuuri laughed as Victor shrieked something about not being a child anymore, which was quickly drowned out by their loud counting, all the way to twenty-four, as they tugged at his ears. The Nikiforovs left after to lay the table, leaving Yuuri with a very disgruntled Victor. His ears were stained red and he flinched slightly when Yuuri raised his fingers to touch them. Yuuri smiled and kissed each lobe tenderly, until Victor begged him to stop with a breathy gasp. 

“Are you mad?” Yuuri asked. 

“Yes.”

Yuuri kissed him once more. 

“No,” Victor sighed, his face finally cracking into a soft smile. 

Victor’s birthday dinner was, in a single word, ‘vkusno’. It had been so long since Yuuri had sat down to a proper home cooked meal, one cooked with love and way too many calories. He didn’t see the bottom of his wine glass until Mrs. Nikiforov succeeded in draining all three bottles of red on the table. Victor held his hand while blowing out the candles on his cake, and pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss as his parents cheered. 

“You’re here,” Victor whispered, so softly that Yuuri almost didn’t hear him over the bustle of the cake cutting.

“I’m here,” Yuuri smiled.

After cake, they found themselves in the living room and Mrs. Nikiforov was determined to take a walk down memory lane. While cleaning last week, she had come across a box of recordings of Victor’s old programs and various other events from his childhood. After all of the wine from dinner, Victor had no choice but to put up with a few more hours with his family. And Yuuri had absolutely no sympathy for him.

“Oh, Vitya! That cute ice show you did with the sweet girl down the street,” his mother cooed. “Your last year as a novice…and your first year. Oh, angel moy…”

“What’s this one?” Yuuri asked reaching for a pristine white case near the bottom of the box. 

Mrs. Nikiforov grabbed it, mumbling about her careless record keeping. “We’ll have to find out. Peter, get me a pen so we can write on the case.”

Yuuri took the case from her as she started fumbling with the wrong side trying to get it open. “Let me,” he said. 

After pressing a few buttons, he managed to get the DVD tray open. He sat back on his knees as Victor navigated the menus with the remote from the couch. It became immediately clear that it was not an ice show, rather there was a stage with heavy velvet curtains and sounds of an orchestra warming up as the theater slowly filled. Yuuri’s heart leapt. Was this from Victor’s days in the ballet?

He was about to ask when Victor’s father returned with a marker. “Go sit, you’ll like this,” she said with a wave of her hand. 

Yuuri stood and walked over to where Victor was sprawled out on the oversized recliner. Victor grabbed his arm and pulled Yuuri down to sit across his lap. When it became clear that his attempts to squirm to sit next to his boyfriend (as opposed to on him) were futile, he conceded and melted back into his chest.

The room grew quiet as Victor’s father switched off the lights, basking them all in the soft glow of the television screen. “I’ve always wanted to see one of your ballet recitals,” Yuuri murmured as the curtains lifted. 

“Not me,” Victor laughed. “Minako.”

And there she was on the screen before them, taking a bit of the edge off of Yuuri’s initial disappointment. “How does she look exactly the same,” Yuuri breathed. 

“That woman is an angel - an eternal beauty. If you dance well enough, God will grant you with youth,” Mrs. Nikiforov sighed. “Oh listen - that’s me!”

A slow note was pulled from the orchestra and Minako started to move. “Oh wait,” Victor said, “I am in this one.”

Yuuri watched as a group of small children in fairy wings leaped across the stage. “This was during one of the dress rehearsals - Lilia let her first years do these shows for their parents. I have the red and gold wings, there,” he whispered, leaning them both closer to the screen. 

Yuuri squinted, focusing intently on the small figure moving about the stage. He wished the camera was zoomed in a bit more and that the video quality was better. He wanted to see the delicate expressiveness of Victor’s hands and face, the nimble and practiced footwork. “How old were you?”

“Hmmmm, four or five probably.”

“Your hair was still short,” Yuuri realized. 

“Mmm, I hadn’t started growing it out then, but I wouldn’t talk about my hair too loudly - I’m not sure my mother has forgiven you.”

Yuuri muffled a laugh into his fist as he glanced over at where the Nikiforov’s were sitting on the couch. “I’m not sure about that. She was very nice to me when she picked me up at the airport.”

Victor nuzzled his nose into Yuuri’s cheek. “Do you like them - my parents?” he whispered. 

“Of course, I’ve always liked them,” Yuuri replied. 

Victor kissed him lightly and they settled in just as the music started to pick up in pace. Victor’s time on the stage was brief, but Yuuri was more than happy to watch his teacher in her prime. Her movements were comforting and graceful as she took up the stage. But between the wine and rich food, and the way Victor’s fingers were working absently into the muscles of his caves, Yuuri was feeling much too relaxed. Soon, he felt his eyelids growing heavy.

Yuuri inhaled sharply when he felt a light pinch at his side. “You falling asleep?” Victor whispered low in his ear.

“Mmm, sorry,” Yuuri mumbled as he moved to straighten himself a bit in Victor’s lap. 

But Victor pulled him back in, guiding Yuuri’s head back down to his shoulder. “It’s fine, solnyshko. But let’s get these out of the way,” he said as he removed Yuuri’s glasses. 

Yuuri closed his eyes once more and burrowed his face into Victor’s neck, pausing to kiss the skin there lightly. It was easy to drift away curled up in Victor’s warmth with his fingers dancing lightly against his scalp. It wasn’t the first time they’d fallen asleep together on this very couch, though never quite in this way, and Yuuri hoped it wouldn’t be the last. 

Mrs. Nikiforov said something in Russian from across the room that had Victor pulling his hand over Yuuri’s ear, pressing him more deeply into his chest. Yuuri felt more than heard Victor’s reply, followed by another bright laugh and words from his mother. Mr. Nikiforov’s voice joined the mix as the settler of their teasing argument. 

“Leave them be, Vera. You’re as bad as your mother when you drink,” he said in gruff English.

The next time he woke, it was to Victor lightly rubbing his shoulder. The room was darker than before - the TV was emitting an eerie glow rather than the vivid pictures from earlier. Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand lightly to let him know that he was working on rousing himself from sleep. A moment passed before Victor’s lips were pressing against his. He allowed himself to melt into the soft, slow kisses offered to him. The Nikiforov’s house was quieter than the constant low bustle of his dorm and Yuuri could hear every breath, every slide of their lips and tongues over the stillness around them. 

They pulled away some time later, both breathless and flushed. Yuuri reached up and slid his fingers into Victor’s hair, marveling at how soft and vulnerable and happy he looked in that moment. Victor grabbed his wrist and planted a final kiss to his palm. 

“My parents went up to bed a little while ago,” Victor whispered. “We should get going - we have to feed and let out Makka.”

They gathered Yuuri’s things from Victor’s room and paused to leave his parents a quick note of thanks. The drive to Victor’s apartment wasn’t long - a mere ten minutes - and Makkachin was dozing lightly in wait when they arrived. Victor brought Yuuri’s suitcases to his room as Yuuri showered the poodle in attention. 

“Would you mind getting her food an changing her water while I take her out?” Victor asked as walked back into the main room. 

“Yeah - one scoop right?” he asked, remembering back to the last time he was here. 

Victor nodded as he coaxed Makkachin into her harness. “Yes yes, I know it’s way past bedtime and you’re over excited. We’ll be back in a minute you silly thing,” he cooed. 

The pair didn’t stay out for too long, given the frigid temperature and lateness of the hour. Victor showed Yuuri where the towels were as he set about taking care of a few things in the kitchen. They swapped places after, though Victor had tried to convince Yuuri to just stay and take another shower. 

Yuuri looked over at his suitcase with frown, knowing that his sleep things were packed inconveniently at the bottom. His eyes drifted over to Victor’s dresser and he only hesitated for a moment before helping himself to the most comfortable looking shirt he could find as well as a pair of boxers. The shirt was slightly too big in all of the right places and he really hoped Victor didn’t mind him borrowing it (potentially long-term). 

It wasn’t long before Victor slid into bed next to him. “Makka’s going to be jealous - I usually cuddle her like this at night,” Victor said as he pulled Yuuri closer to his chest. 

Yuuri hummed in amusement the bed dipped in front of him. “Somehow I think she’ll be just fine,” he said as the poodle settled and rolled into Yuuri’s chest. 

Makkachin huffed in approval when Victor stretched out his hand to rub behind her ears. “We’ve got him now, Makka. A Yuuri sandwich.”

After a bit of spatial negotiation, the trio finally found a suitable arrangement. 

“I don’t think I asked - how long are you staying, solnyshko?”

“Till the second.”

“A week then,” Victor said, pulling his arms a bit tighter across Yuuri’s chest. “Someday, I’m going to convince you to stay longer.”

Convincing him wasn’t the issue - he’d cancel his flight back to Detroit right this instant if he could. He twisted around in Victor’s arms so they could face each other, relieved to see that Victor was smiling softly at him. He knew, Yuuri realized. Victor knew that, if it were possible, Yuuri would stay. He sealed his lips to Victor’s to assure his thoughts, and kissed him like there was no place else he’d rather be. 

xXx

Yuuri was already mostly awake when his phone started buzzing on the nightstand the next morning. He ghosted one last kiss against the crown of Victor’s head before carefully slipping out of bed. Victor mumbled softly, but stayed asleep as he crept out of the room. The living area was still dark as night this early in the morning making the illuminated Tokyo area code all the more real. Yuuri drew in a deep breath and answered.

The conversation was fast and formal after the initial congratulations and honors offered by the JSF rep - Yuuri had never before said the words ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’ so frequently in such a short span of time. He gave them a brief statement to use in a press release, and then the call was over.

He startled when Makkachin bumped her head against the side of his leg, clearly curious as to why one of her humans had chosen to leave the warm little nest they had created. Yuuri sank to his knees and worked his finger tips deeply into the muscles behind the poodle’s ears. Her tail swished across the floor and she fought to bump her face against his. Yuuri laughed in quiet delight.

“They chose me, Makkachin. Can you believe it?” he whispered in awe. 

The poodle rolled over expectantly and huffed appreciatively as Yuuri scratched her sides. It was still quite early, though with all of the time zones he’d been in over the last week and the naps he took yesterday, his body wasn’t sure if it wanted to be awake or asleep. He glanced back at the door to the bedroom and knew that there was no way he could fall back asleep after hearing the news, and also no way he would be able to lay still, no matter how much he longed to be back in that cocoon of searing heat that was Victor and his comforter. Victor would be awake soon enough for morning training anyway and Yuuri needed just a little bit of time to himself before taking on the day.

Yuuri stood and stretched his limbs in the quiet darkness of the apartment. Goose bumps prickled over the exposed skin of his legs and stomach. A mug of tea and a warm blanket were in order, he decided. Perhaps he would borrow something off the bookcase lining the far wall - he was going to be here long enough to finish one after all. Assuming Victor owned something written in English. 

He padded to the kitchen, flicking on the dimmest light as he went, and filled the electric kettle with fresh water. Yuuri reached up for one of the taller cabinets and immediately spotted the familiar packaging from his favorite supplier near Hasetsu. The date stamp was recent, meaning Victor had kept the regular order Yuuri had helped him arrange last year. Yuuri grabbed the bag and the small silver strainer laying next to it. 

Makkachin pawed lightly at his leg again and let out a soft whine when he looked down at her. He followed her gaze back to the open cabinet and laughed lightly at what he found. 

“Just one,” he whispered as he reached up to grab the treat tin. 

The poodle happily accepted the treat and walked off to her bed in the living room to enjoy it, or, if she were like Vicchan, bury it in the blankets for a rainy day. The kettle was starting to hiss softly. There were a few travel thermoses set on the drying rack by the sink, but no evidence of the mugs he remembered using last time he was here. Yuuri popped lightly onto his tip toes, sighing at the sensation in his calves as he did so - his muscles were aching to be put to use. 

He hopped lightly and caught sight of something that looked promisingly like a curved handle of a mug. He heard the sound of a door creaking distantly behind him - likely Makkachin returning to bed with Victor. Yuuri pulled one of his knees onto the counter top, wincing lightly as his toes collided with the cabinet door below. The top cabinet jutted out a bit more than he expected, and he took a moment to find his balance. 

_Why would anyone ever keep anything as essential as a mug on the top shelf of an already too tall cabinet?_ he whined to himself. 

Yuuri yelped at the sensation of something warm gripping the exposed skin near his hip where the borrowed sweater had ridden up. Its partner immediately counterbalanced his movement, pressing into his other side. 

“Here, let me,” Victor offered, pressing a kiss to the nape of Yuuri’s neck. 

He let Victor help him down from the counter and watched as he effortlessly grabbed two mugs from the shelf, heels never leaving the ground. Yuuri muttered a quick thanks and set about making tea for both of them.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” Victor said as he leaned his cheek against the back of Yuuri’s shoulder. “I was beginning to think yesterday was all some elaborate dream until I heard the rustle of Makka’s treat tin. Why are you up so early?” 

Yuuri felt his face soften into a smile as he felt Victor’s arms curl more tightly around his waist, as if he were still unconvinced of their present reality. He drew in a deep breath to calm the swarm of tiny butterflies that had awoken in his stomach. “I got the call,” the feeling of his mouth forming around the words was almost surreal. “This morning - they called and asked me if…”

“Yuuri,” Victor breathed after a moment, “that’s great news! I knew you would, I knew -“

Yuuri reached behind him to press a finger to Victor’s lips. As excited as he was, it wasn’t time to celebrate yet. “Wait - I…when the list goes up, I want to see our names together.” 

_Because that’s when it will feel real,_ he finished in his mind. Verbal speech could be misheard, misunderstood, forgotten over time. But seeing their names together in black and white…that would last forever. Paper was tangible, paper was real. Yuuri wanted them to see their dream come true together. 

“Okay,” Victor agreed. “We should do something special - go out for dinner? Have some champagne back here?”

Yuuri nodded as a small wave of relief washed over him, because Victor was excited about this too. Perhaps not as much as Yuuri, but the happiness was there on his face nonetheless. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

“Or - oh! Yuuri, we could do a picnic dinner at the ice rink, or maybe we could -”

Yuuri craned his neck back to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. “Whatever you want - I just want us to be together.”

Victor ran his hands up and down his arms. “Yuuri - I am so, so incredibly proud of you. Watching your performances at Nationals last week…you were truly amazing.”

“Even though I touched down on my salchow?”

Victor’s laugh rumbled gently in his chest. “Yes - I have some ideas on that, by the way. And for your spin transitions at the end of your free program - those could have been a bit cleaner.”

“I was tired,” Yuuri admitted. “I was up late the night before - I couldn’t sleep.”

“Nervous?” 

Yuuri nodded. “It had been a while since…” _since I’ve been in first place after the short program,_ he finished. He shook his head with determination. That was just something he would have to get over in the future. Perhaps it wouldn’t happen a lot, maybe only at Nationals and local competitions. But still…

Yuuri dropped the thought and opted to change the topic instead. “I watched you too, Victor. I can’t wait to see it in person.”

“You can see it today at the rink,” Victor smiled.

“That’s not what I mean.” Yuuri wanted to see what Chris had described to him at NHK. It had been much too long since Yuuri had seen Victor skate in the context of a competition. He got chills sometimes just thinking about it.

Victor kissed lightly at the back of his neck as they swayed in silence for a few moments. He felt like he was dreaming, like he could disappear from this life at any moment and wake up back in Detroit or Hasetsu. All of those promises they made to each other so many years ago…Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut against the pressure building behind them. 

“Nice shirt, by the way,” Victor said after a minute of silence had passed.

“Mmmm,” Yuuri sighed as a warm hand slid underneath the sweater - a much welcomed distraction. “Borrowed your pants too.”

He shivered as Victor’s other hand grazed across his thigh and hip, gently coaxing the mood in a new direction. Yuuri absolutely felt like following. “Mmm, Yuuri, I have bad news.”

The words tickled the delicate skin on the back of his neck. “O-oh?”

Victor planted several long kisses along his shoulders, pulling the collar of the sweater out of the way as needed. “Makka chewed the zippers of your suitcase and now it won’t open. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear my clothes this week.”

“Mmm, a true tragedy,” he teased back.

A breathy gasp escaped his lips as Victor bit down softly at the nape of his neck. The heat of his lips and the velvet touch of his hands running along his torso were driving him absolutely crazy. Yuuri loved it when Victor got wound up like this. His voice would get deep and more heavily accented. He would cling to whatever part of Yuuri he could reach, touching him gently - almost reverently. Yuuri knew that with a single look or word, Victor’s hugs would instantly cool down to gestures of comfort. But, most of the time, Yuuri encouraged him. 

Over time, it had become easier and more natural to flirt with Victor. He truly enjoyed being able to bring that soft blush to his cheeks with a few words or a complement. He’d long stopped being embarrassed over the little comments and praises directed his way - they made him feel special and he hoped Victor felt the same. The flirting sometimes went awry on both their parts, devolving into fits of laughter. But it was always earnest and safe. 

Yuuri twisted around in Victor’s arms, lifting himself up on the balls of his feet so he could press their lips together for a proper good morning kiss. He wound his hands through the mussed soft silver hair as he pulled them more closely together, relishing the soft sighs pulled from Victor’s chest. He felt the heat of Victor’s hands working down his back and he jolted slightly when they squeezed tightly at his ass, more out of anticipation than surprise. Victor used his movement as leverage, lifting him to sit on the cool granite counter top. 

_“Victor,”_ Yuuri hissed as the kisses trailed down his neck, stopping only for the few brief seconds it took for the sweater to be removed. 

His head dropped back with a hollow thud against the cabinet door when Victor’s hands slid up the tops of his thighs. His next inhale caught in his throat as Victor’s laugh came hot against his clothed cock. _“Onegai,”_ he breathed in desperation. “I’m fine, don’t stop,”

His breath came in ragged gasps as Victor mouthed at him. The friction and the warmth were lovely, but it was so teasing, not enough for either of them. Their time apart, the soft fluffy kisses exchanged the night before, the news from this morning, had them both eager. After some careful maneuvering, they managed to wiggle the borrowed boxers down to a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Yuuri moaned, only just stopping his head from hitting the cabinets a second time as Victor’s fingers wrapped around his straining length. Blue eyes met brown for a long hot moment. “Watch, Yuuri,” Victor commanded gently.

Yuuri parted his knees wider as Victor devoured his body with his eyes. He had been self conscious at first when Victor would stare at him like this, but now…

“Beautiful,” Victor whispered.

Sometimes it was ‘gorgeous’ or ‘amazing’. Other times, Victor whispered phrases in Russian like prayers - breathy, electrifying prayers - followed by tender kisses along the insides of his thighs.

Victor’s eyes flicked back up to Yuuri’s as he closed his lips around the head of his cock. Yuuri gasped at the intense heat of Victor’s mouth. It was so much more than he remembered and felt different from the last time, though perhaps this was because his memory and imagination were such poor substitutes for the real thing. There was no equal to this feeling, of this he was certain. There couldn’t be - anything more exquisite than this would…well Yuuri wasn’t sure he’d survive the encounter to give a determination. 

The only thing that might come close was something he hadn’t experienced yet, but was very much looking forward to. Yuuri had been thinking about it - sex - a lot since Victor’s short stay that fall. They had talked about it a bit - it had started off with one of them (Yuuri couldn’t remember who) mentioning they’d had a dream about it, eventually progressing to more details. Their conversations focused more on likes and dislikes, Victor patiently answering Yuuri’s questions, but had never strayed to ‘when’. Sometimes, Yuuri wasn’t sure he was ready. Other times - like right now - he was more than. 

Yuuri threaded his fingers through Victor’s hair just enough to anchor himself in the present moment, heels kicking back against the cabinets below as Victor took more and more of him. He canted his hips up lightly, letting the quiet little moans and gasps slide out of his chest, powerless to fully contain them.

“These walls are thicker than yours. Let me hear more, my Yuuri,” Victor encouraged with a soft smile. 

Yuuri nodded as Victor lowered his head again to swallow around him. He was quickly reduced to an incoherent gasping mess - Victor’s name the only word that made any sense as his pleasure continued to build deep inside of him. It was going to be over soon, and the knowledge was both a blessing and a curse. He wanted it to go on forever, but the last few moments of heightened sensitivity before orgasm were so intense, so incredible. Yuuri could feel his muscles tensing in his abdomen as he tried to hold back just a little while longer.

“Ngha, Victor,” he moaned in warning. “Feels so good, I’m…so close.”

Victor squeezed his hands against Yuuri’s hips as his eyes flickered up to meet Yuuri’s gaze. “Onegai - please,” he gasped, his fingers, still tangled in his hair, guiding Victor’s movements gently, showing him exactly what he needed.

Victor’s mouth swallowed his tip again, working in tandem with his hand which was sliding delightfully up and down, lubricated by Victor’s wet heat. Yuuri felt Victor’s tongue swirl one final time around him before he was gasping and crying out for him. His vision went blank as he rode through his orgasm, vaguely aware of Victor’s mouth still swallowing around him. 

When he opened his eyes again, Victor was standing at his full height between his knees, one hand gently cupping the back of Yuuri’s head where it must have collided with the wooden cabinet door again. (Not that Yuuri was in any state to have noticed.) He leaned down to draw Yuuri into a sweet, lingering kiss. 

He could taste himself on Victor’s tongue. It had weirded him out a bit the first few times, but now…Yuuri licked a bit more deeply into Victor’s mouth. The taste wasn’t horrible, it was just…strange. He wondered how Victor would taste. How they might taste together on each other’s tongues. He hadn’t had that pleasure yet, having always been much too boneless to do anything more than bring Victor off with his hand after… assuming he hadn’t already gotten off, untouched, just from bringing Yuuri over. 

Victor broke away and brushed Yuuri’s hair off of his forehead, replacing it with a tender kiss right in the center. Yuuri melted into him in the silence of the morning. There was always a second wave of…something that always washed over him after he and Victor were intimate like this. It started off somewhere in the center of his chest and radiated outward until every cell in his body was warm and safe. 

Victor was still looking at him when he opened his eyes, staring at Yuuri like he’d just witnessed a miracle. Yuuri scooted closer to the edge of the counter so he could pull Victor flush against his chest. He felt the warm skin of Victor’s neck stretch under his lips as he pulled his head back, granting Yuuri more access to all his favorite places. 

“Let me hear you, Victor,” Yuuri whispered with a smile against Victor’s collar bone.

He wrapped his arm securely around Victor’s back when he felt him start to shake in pleasure. Victor smashed their lips together, his hands winding tightly into Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri moved his hand faster over him and it wasn’t long before Victor was panting against Yuuri’s chest. 

“God, Yuuri,” he gasped. 

“That’s it, Vicchan,” Yuuri whispered against his hair line. He felt his face flush immediately as the term of endearment slipped through his lips. It was always Victor saying those cute little things, never himself - especially in moments like this. But moments later he felt Victor tense against him as a hot sticky fluid covered his thighs and hand. 

He held Victor close to him, carding his fingers through his hair as his breathing evened out. It took several minutes and Yuuri savored each one, feeling their chests expanding against one another. Eventually, Victor straightened up and grabbed a damp paper towel to help Yuuri clean up. 

“I think our tea is cold,” Victor said. 

The lack of any apologetic tone in his voice made Yuuri smile. “I think a shower would be more useful at this point.”

“True,” Victor laughed, helping Yuuri down from the counter. “We should get moving though if we want to catch Yakov early. He’s always in his best mood before eight.”

Yuuri’s eyes flickered in surprise over to the window. “It’s still so dark out - it can’t possibly be…”

“Sometimes the sun will rise as late as ten in the morning this time of year,” Victor replied as he set out two travel mugs for later. 

Yuuri sighed, cringing inwardly as he realized how hard it would be to wake up without the sun this week. “Alright, let’s go beg your coach to let me have some ice time. Or at least unlock a studio for me.”

“If he says no, we’ll appeal to Lilia. She likes you.”

“But she scares me,” Yuuri flinched. 

“Which is why she likes you,” Victor chuckled. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

Fortunately, for Yuuri anyway, it had not been necessary to get Lilia involved. Victor had worked his magic with his coach, setting the mood with some fluffy pastry that smelled simply divine, and building up an argument hinging on the fact that they were here early and most of the skaters had a reduced schedule now that their seasons were over. Aside from Victor and Georgi, Yakov had two female skaters who had made the cut for European Championships and Worlds, plus a novice skater who was gearing up to take his skill tests for the junior division.

So it was decided - if they could make it there early enough in the morning, Yuuri could have the full rink for an hour or so to do run-throughs of his programs before Yakov’s skaters arrived for their warm-ups and individual sessions. The small attached gym and ballet studios would also be available for him to use. It was an arrangement Yakov had made previously with visiting skaters and their coaches who arrived prior to competitions when they were held in St. Petersburg - though Yuuri highly doubted that those arrangements came with the stipulation that the skater not pose a distraction for Victor.

“How much does Yakov know, about us I mean,” Yuuri asked over dinner later that night. 

Victor simply shrugged. “After so many years of putting up with Georgi, Yakov has instituted a very strict ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ policy. If we want to skate about love, fine - as long as put on a good performance. Heartbreak? So be it, as long as we can keep it together emotionally on the ice.”

“But do you think he knows…?”

“That I sucked you off in my kitchen this morning? Probably not.” Yuuri choked on a piece of chicken. “That you mean more to me than a casual friendship - probably yes.”

Yuuri wiped his eyes on a napkin and took a long swig of water. Did Celestino know, he wondered? Did he want his coach to know? 

“Does it bother you?” Victor asked quietly. “I guess we never really talked about how public we wanted to be.”

Something in his voice caught Yuuri’s attention - that little hesitancy that showed up every now and again. He considered the question seriously as he took a few more bites of food. Yuuri liked the little bubble that they had been living in, but he also knew it was going to be harder and harder to stay inside of that bubble. As much as he tried to stay away from the gossip rags, it was impossible to not come across the occasional speculative story or juicy theory about any number of things in an athlete’s life. The rumors, the downright mean comments that were made about his peers, made him sick. 

“I don’t want to hide it,” he finally said with confidence. “Obviously I’d like it if we could retain our privacy - a good amount of it actually - but, I don’t want to leave the door open for people to interpret ‘us’ for themselves.”

Victor met his gaze with a smile. “So if they ask…I can say say that we’re dating?”

Yuuri nodded through the blush that was creeping into his face. “Yes. I’ve um…they’ve never really asked me about it before, but I’d like to say that, if they do.”

“Yakov is usually really good at redirecting those types of questions, and my past relationships have flown under the radar. But those weren’t with devastatingly attractive, World-ranked figure skaters though.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but return Victor’s smirk. “Have they ever asked you about me? It’s just that Chris said that no-one ever really noticed me, and if they did it was always the assumption that you were a mentor-figure…which you were - are - I suppose.”

“Recently there has been more of an interest, given my posts and our interactions on Instagram,” Victor started. “Since we hadn’t talked about this, I didn’t really say anything beyond the fact that we’ve always been supportive of each other and were excited to finally compete this year.”

Yuuri couldn’t think of anything to say that would express the amount of gratitude he felt towards Victor in that moment. He dropped his hand to Victor’s knee and squeezed. “Thank you,” he said softly. 

Yuuri felt the warmth of Victor’s hand as it covered his. “It’s part of being in a relationship, zolotse. Or at least one that is healthy and respectful. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable. Oh - but if we are telling everyone, sneaking into your hotel room will feel silly!” Victor pouted.

Yuuri brushed their shoulders together. “Okay - we can sneak around for one night. Or two - two nights,” he decided. 

Victor shook with laughter next to him and Makkachin started barking in excitement from the couch. All the while, the snow fell against the dark evening sky, settling in a light layer upon the street and cars below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 is still being written, but this coming week I am using some of my 'use it or lose it' vacation time and am very excited to get a lot of writing done for this fic and do some planning for future projects.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II of Yuuri's Christmas in Russia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this took me so long to post! The bulk of this chapter has been done for ages — it’s the editing that took forever this time around - five minutes here and there, while brushing my teeth getting ready for work - all that good stuff. But I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you all so much for your sweet words and taking the time out of your lives to enjoy this fic with me.

_**December 27, 2012 - January 2, 2013** _

 

Yuuri dragged his finger tips along the cool metal push bar on the door in front of him. ‘Private Session - Do Not Enter!’ was printed in both Russian and English on the slightly skewed sign hanging at eye level. It was a reminder of the promise he had made to Yakov on the first morning of training - that he wouldn’t be a distraction for Victor. He had kept his promise for the last few days, but Yuuri couldn’t help but feel like there was something he needed to know, something he needed to see, on the other side of those doors.

He had skated with Victor plenty of times before, both for fun and for slightly more formal training. But it had always been in the off season and now Yuuri had been given the opportunity to see how a World Champion trained during peak season, to experience it first hand. This experience combined with the roster announcement dangling in his sight had him feeling a bit restless. It was more of a mental state of unrest rather than physical. Almost like he was yearning for something, but as much as he tried, he couldn’t figure out what.

He had been standing there in the quiet, dim hallway for the greater part of five minutes in silent debate. Victor hadn’t seemed to be opposed to Yuuri watching him practice, and if he stayed quiet, just watched in secret, perhaps he could also get away with still keeping his promise to Yakov. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder and pushed on the bar - no one needed to know.

Yuuri slipped noiselessly through the heavy rink doors, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. He listened to the sharp slices of blades on ice, accentuated by the occasional sharper sound of a landed jump as he crept as close as he dared. Yakov was there in front of him to the left, standing at the edge of the rink. The skates he wore were clearly well worn, though well maintained. Yuuri wondered how long it had been since Yakov had last skated professionally. He never asked Victor, nor tried to look up the man’s programs as he had Celestino’s.

Yakov said something in his usual gruff tone, his body unmoving. (Had he skated with a similar edge?) Victor skated out of his line of sight and he listened as the same pattern of sounds repeated themselves. He watched as Victor danced into view - choreography from his long program - followed by a combination jump sequence.

Yakov issued another command, longer than the last. Again, Yuuri watched as Victor skated to the other side of the rink. This time, he was allowed to skate a bit beyond the jump sequence before Yakov interrupted. Victor simply nodded, and this time isolated the jump sequence and the first few movements that followed. Again and again - six times before Yakov stopped him, sending Victor back out of Yuuri’s sight. 

Music started playing from overhead, clearly cued up to the specific segment they were working through. Yuuri inched a bit closer to see the full sequence. His lips parted as Victor started to move. If someone had dragged him into the rink blindfolded and told him that he was at a competition, he would have believed them. That’s how polished, how professional, Victor skated the segment. The angles of his body, the tension in his free leg - all perfect. The transition out of the jump sequence was so fluid, a noticeable difference even from ten minutes ago.

Yakov clapped his hands and cut the music and it took everything in his being to stop himself from yelling for Yakov to let Victor keep going.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he slipped through the doors - perhaps Victor strategizing new choreography or harder jump passages to bring his program to the next level. But here he was, being worked to the bone on the same thirty seconds of his program to, as best as Yuuri could see, iron out the minute blink-and-you-miss-it moment of unsure footwork in the transition between the last jump sequence and his final stretch of choreography.

There was something else that had been itching at him while observing Victor and the other skaters over the last day which had only just become clear. During their open ice time, Yakov would holler at each skater to stand up straight or not let their free leg get too loose - he’d even yelled this to Yuuri. But none of those comments had ever been directed towards Victor. And Yuuri was starting to see why: Victor kept all of those performance expectations with him during practice. His movements never grew lazy, even later in the day. Victor approached practice like he would a performance, allowing any true flaws to come to the front, in order to really perfect the core of his routines.

This time last year, Yuuri’s season had been over. But here he was now, training alongside some of the greatest skaters in the sport during peak season. He had been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting while on the ice that week, his thoughts always coming back to one question - the one causing his mental restlessness: what happens next? 

Making it to Worlds was always something he had put on a pedestal but he never really considered what came next. Logically he always knew that the world wouldn’t end or anything so dramatic as that, but it had been his goal for so long. What did you do when you reached a goal? It wasn’t even a full goal, he realized - it was half of one, the other half being what did he want to do at worlds? He had spent so long working towards skating alongside Victor but had never stopped to really consider what he wanted to happen when he stepped out onto the ice. 

Right now, Yuuri was just one of thirty or so skaters who would be skating at the World Championship. Was that good enough for him? Would he be satisfied with that? 

As he stood there watching Victor train, he knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Yuuri wanted to be more than just one of thirty, and maybe after this week he was starting to see how to make that happen. 

Yuuri took a few steps back towards the door for good measure when Victor skated towards Yakov. The tone of their voices changed, hushed and light, as Victor took a few drinks from his water bottle. It was when Yakov reached out and squeezed Victor’s shoulder that Yuuri decided it was time for him to leave. Though he couldn’t understand a word they were saying, he still felt like he was intruding on something deeply personal between coach and student.

As quietly as he came, Yuuri made his retreat a soft smile playing at his lips and a new determination burning in his heart. He guided the heavy doors closed with a soft click, feeling as his spine straightened at the noise. He would, he could train harder and smarter than he currently was. And he would start that afternoon during the group ice time. Yakov would not have to remind him of his free leg or the tightness of his arms during jumps and spins. 

Yuuri drew in a deep breath and turned to walk away. Something, or someone rather, was standing in his way. It was the boy from the convenience store last summer, Yuuri realized with a start. The one that had threatened to turn him into borsht and criticized his salchow. And he could tell the boy recognized him as well, just by the momentary widening of his eyes. It lasted only for a quick moment before his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

“Can’t you read? It says ‘Do Not Enter,’” the boy leered at him. 

“Aha I can - um read that is,” Yuuri said with a nervous laugh. His feet were telling him to run while his mind reminded him that he would have to see the boy here again the next day. His mind blurred as he tried to come up with something to say, anything to appeal to this fierce animal before him. So, he brought up the one topic that they clearly had in common, one that always brought a smile to his own face when he was the same age. “It’s Victor’s session and I just wanted to see. You train with him, so you probably know.”

_’Please, just let me go…’_

“Know what?” the boy challenged as he stepped his foot out to the side, effectively cornering Yuuri in the small alcove now.

“That he’s incredible. I’m actually kind of jealous of all of you,” Yuuri rambled, plucking words - any words - out of his brain. 

“So you _are_ just like the rest of them,” the boy judged. His face fell as he spoke the words and Yuuri sensed a brief flicker of disappointment behind those eyes. Or maybe anger, it was difficult to tell paired with the tone of his voice. “Not all of us look up to him - and that’s why I’ll pass him and everyone else someday.”

And that’s when Yuuri remembered his first interaction with the boy outside of the studio, specifically how negatively he had reacted when Yuuri brought up Victor’s name. He bit his lip as he studied the skater in front of him. The boy was here training in Saint Petersburg, had borrowed some of Victor’s old costumes even, if the pictures hanging in the small lunchroom were to be believed. Not Georgi’s, not Alexi’s or any of the other skaters that had once trained under Yakov. Victor’s.

“So who do you look up to, then?” he asked before he could stop himself.

The boy snapped his eyes back up to meet Yuuri’s - they were a blazing emerald green, fierce and determined as they bored into Yuuri. “None of your business, loser,” he growled. 

Yuuri let out a shaky breath which was dangerously close to an inappropriately timed nervous laugh. The boy studied him for a long moment, stripping Yuuri down to a level of transparency he had never experienced before. He wanted to leave, but also found himself incapable of pulling any sort of sensation into his legs. 

“Why are you here anyway? Yakov taking you on or something?”

Yuuri quickly shook his head. “N-no!”

“Good,” the boy snapped immediately as he stepped closer into Yuuri’s space. “This rink doesn’t need two Yuri’s.”

And the boy - Yuri, apparently - kicked his toe into the linoleum floors with a sharp squeak as he turned to walk away. Yuuri watched him leave, too shocked to move for several long seconds after. 

He asked Victor about the other Yuri over dinner that night. A few gaps were filled during the conversation, from the information that Victor was able to provide, anyway. His name was Yuri Plisetsky and had started training full-time under Yakov in the novice division just shy of two years ago. Next season was the first that he would be old enough to compete in the junior division, dependent on the results skills tests the next day (though Victor implied that there was no way he wouldn’t pass).

Yuuri also learned that the boy was one of the skaters Victor had been fighting to protect last season, the one who relied on RSF skating scholarships and reliable sponsors. The one who would have lost everything if Victor hadn’t cooperated.

“Is that why he’s so…you know, around you?” Yuuri found himself asking.

Victor shrugged. “Maybe - why? What does he say about me?”

“Oh um nothing really. He just…I guess I assumed he looked up to you. He got a bit mad at that.”

Victor chuckled lightly. “That’s just Yuri.”

“So I shouldn’t take it personally when he tells me I suck?” Yuuri smiled.

“I have a feeling he doesn’t mean that,” Victor replied with an amused smile.

Yuuri stabbed at a piece of broccoli and chewed, unconvinced. At least a few of his questions had been answered. Perhaps he would just have to be satisfied with that and not let the exchange get to him during the open practice the next day. He tightened his grip on his fork as he thought with determination that he would land all of his salchows tomorrow.

xXx

A storm started brewing the day of the roster posting, forcing them to cancel their dinner reservations. Instead, by Yuuri’s own suggestion, they braved the early phase of the winds and snow to walk to the market just up the street to buy some food to get them through the next day or so, including ingredients for katsudon - or as close as he could find anyway - and some celebratory champagne for that evening.

Yuuri imagined that they looked like a scene from one of those holiday movies - trees tapping against the glowing windows, a fire flickering in the living area. The warmth of Victor’s apartment was impenetrable even against the evening wind, so harsh and cold it could cut glass. They filled the space with laughter and caresses and aromas that enticed Makkachin to nip at their heels and whine. 

Yuuri kept stealing glances over at Victor while he was chopping vegetables, cooking, eating, cleaning, existing. He noticed a small smile on Victor’s lips and a flush to his cheeks that made him look like he was glowing. Victor caught him staring a few times, making Yuuri fumble back to whatever he had been doing, like someone who had been caught making puppy eyes at their crush. Which, Yuuri supposed he was. Just because they were dating now didn’t mean Yuuri couldn’t have the biggest crush known to man on Victor. 

Everything about the evening reminded Yuuri of being home, of being somewhere he felt he actually belonged. Somewhere he wanted to stay. 

And then it was time, stomach filled with rice and heaven, Yuuri went to fetch Victor’s computer from the charger. 

“It looks like this was the best I could do - I swear I had some flutes laying around here somewhere,” Victor said when he returned from the next room.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows when Victor set down two large red wine glasses on the coffee table next to the bottle of champagne. “I’ve taken champagne out of worse,” he shrugged. 

Victor sprawled over the couch, stretching his torso up and over the arm of the couch with a deep sigh. “I’ve heard that in some countries, athletes drink it out of their shoes to celebrate.” 

Yuuri blanched. “I like what we have better, thanks,” he laughed, allowing Victor to pull him down to sit between his outstretched legs. “I don’t even want to know what that would be like, especially after today’s practice.”

“Sorry I made us stay so long,” Victor said as he worked his fingers into Yuuri’s shoulders. “You were doing so well and you were so close to nailing that axel entrance.”

Yuuri smiled back at his stand-in coach for the week. “I really didn’t mind. Thank you for working me through it. There was just something about that moment in the program that gets me a bit too…relaxed I guess? But having you there with me helped a lot. You have an interesting way of explaining things.”

Victor’s face broke out in a huge grin as he laughed in surprise. “It’s fine Yuuri. The others joke when I try to help them, and Yakov just gets annoyed and tells me to stop playing coach. They all know it’s not my calling.”

Yuuri felt himself blush. He could see why the others would poke fun at the way Victor described movements and made up names for things that were so engrained in his motor memory that he didn’t need to know their names. But they just didn’t know Victor, hadn’t studied him like Yuuri had. Perhaps they saw it as arrogant, like Victor was talking down to them by not using technical words. Victor’s descriptions went well beyond techniques, reaching performance tone and and emotional energy, and Yuuri could feel it every time he did exactly as Victor said. 

“I wasn’t…it actually does help. I get it,” he reassured.

Victor gave him a final squeeze before pulling him down against his chest. Yuuri took a moment to settle in, physically and mentally. Here he was, surrounded by Victor, the reason he had found his way to skating in the first place. The reason he had kept going when ever cell in his body was crying out for him to stop, screaming that he was never enough. Every time, he would close his eyes and imagine skating with Victor, celebrating with him after putting on the skate of a lifetime.

He remembered watching Victor on the live stream last year and how badly he had wanted to hug his friend as he made history. Telling Victor how proud he was over the phone had seemed so hollow compared to how the moment would have felt in person. Not to mention being there and seeing the performance with his own eyes…Yuuri never wanted to miss a moment like that ever again. And if he had his way, he never would.

“Are you ready?” Victor asked.

He looked younger in his excitement. His expression was reminiscent of his past life, of the day that he had first asked Yuuri to skate with him, the day he had said that Yuuri looked good with a gold medal around his neck. They’d come so far together and as individuals since those days, working steadily towards this. What would come next? Yuuri wondered. Sharing a podium, perhaps?

He startled lightly when he felt the pressure of Victor’s fingers slipping through his. _Together,_ the gesture said. Whatever came next, they would see it through together.

Yuuri shifted slightly, leaning back so he could press his lips against Victor’s. He caught a glimpse of Victor’s eyes, wide and sparkling, before his own fluttered closed. Their lips moved together for a few moments and Yuuri could feel the beat of Victor’s heart, electrifying the moment even more than he ever thought possible. Victor’s lips chased his when he pulled away.

 _Thank you, for everything_ Yuuri tried to say with his eyes as they parted.

“Moment of truth,” he smiled, trying his best to relax.

Victor grabbed the laptop from the side table and navigated to the ISU webpage, his one handed typing helping to draw out the anticipation. Yuuri sat up a bit straighter when the page finally loaded. Victor clicked on a link and flicked down for a moment before immediately hitting the back button. 

“Wait, Victor that was it. You just have to scroll to find Japan and Russia,” Yuuri said as he inched his fingers over to the track pad. 

Victor swatted his fingers out of the way. “Give me a minute - I’m looking for something.”

“Victor, it’s not like they have two lists,” Yuuri whined. _(Oh god but what if they did?!)_ “Just go back.”

Victor shook his head as he clicked on another link. “Trust me - you’ll like this one better.”

“This looks exactly the same, just in alphabe-…oh,” Yuuri breathed as Victor’s fingers finally stilled slightly over halfway down the list. There they were, one atop of the other, sandwiched between Jorik Hendrickx of Belgium and Georgi Popovich of Russia.

_**Yuuri Katsuki - Japan** _  
_**Victor Nikiforov - Russia** _

“I thought there was a chance this might happen. It’s better this way, right?” Victor said kissing his cheek. 

Yuuri kept staring even when Victor’s arms pulled him tightly back into the warm heat of his chest. Victor was right, of course. Seeing their names like this was much better than the country by country listing where his own name would be alone, just one of thirty others on the page. It was considerate of the other skaters with names between theirs to not qualify this time around. He wondered when the next time they would get so lucky would be.

 _Maybe the scoreboard someday._ Yuuri’s stomach lurched and his cheeks heated at the thought as the reality of their situation finally kicked in. This wasn’t just a list of names, it was a list of his competitors. Victor was officially his competitor. But in what universe would he ever see the scoreboard in this order? Was it bad that he kind of wanted to?

“I can’t believe that I was so close to missing this,” Victor breathed against him after a long, quiet minute. “What would you have done if I had decided to retire last year?”

Yuuri almost laughed at the timing of the question. Because there he was getting a bit fired up and wanting to win and there Victor was, proposing a world where he was out of the equation. 

Yuuri sat in silence as he focused his mind, idly toying with Victor’s fingers as he thought. It was a good question, what would he have done? Even when Victor was at his lowest, Yuuri had never allowed himself to fully consider a reality where Victor was retired. Not really anyway. He let himself feel the sadness and fear associated with the idea, but never let it grow beyond that. Maybe it’s because he believed, truly believed, that Victor still had some fight left. Maybe it was because the world wouldn’t make sense if Victor wasn’t skating anymore. 

“I knew you wouldn’t, deep down. No matter how much I allowed myself to worry, I knew you weren’t done.”

“But what if I did? Or what about when I do - I can’t skate forever, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s heart clenched at the words, at the timing of them. “Can we not…not today…”

“Would you have stopped?”

“No!” Yuuri startled himself by how quickly he found the answer to that question. He may have started skating because of Victor and may have made it this far because of Victor, but his feelings for the sport had rooted themselves more deeply than that over time. And yet, there were some dreams that were too big reach alone. “I mean, I don’t know for how long or how…inspired I would be. But no, I wouldn’t have quit skating.”

“Good,” Victor said. He pressed his lips to Yuuri’s temple for several long moments. 

“Would you laugh if I said that I really, really want to skate right now,” Yuuri asked, saying the first thing that came to mind - the farthest thing he could think of from Victor’s initial question. 

“No, I kind of do too. But it’s probably not the best idea right now,” Victor shook his head with a light laugh. “Help me move the furniture and we’ll compromise.”

Yuuri gladly helped Victor clear out a dance floor in the middle of the living room, just as they used to as kids. Though this dance might be different, he mused as he heard the sharp ‘pop’ of the champagne cork. Perhaps they would always have this even after they both stopped skating, Yuuri realized as Victor placed a glass in his hand.

“To making it to the World Championships,” Victor smiled.

“To childhood dreams,” Yuuri replied. 

“To Yuuri Katsuki, Japan’s ace.”

“To Victor Nikiforov, Russia’s living legend and soon to be repeat World Champion.”

Victor pulled Yuuri flush against him, his eyes dancing with the flames of the fire behind him. “To us.”

Yuuri touched the rims of their glasses together with a light clink. That was the easiest toast of the night. “To us,” he breathed. 

His nose tingled with as he sipped the sweet liquid. It went down more smoothly than whatever Mitch got them to celebrate after his win at NHK. He hummed in approval before taking a few more long sips. “This is nice.”

Victor smiled and took their half emptied glasses over to where the coffee table now sat. “May I have this dance?” he asked, approaching Yuuri with his hand held out. 

Yuuri blushed slightly. “Music?”

Victor shook his head. “Too much work.”

“What kind of dance?” Yuuri asked, rolling himself up fluidly into Victor’s chest when he tugged at his hand.

“Do you remember the one we did last summer, before the zamboni guy interrupted?”

“You mean before we fell on our asses?” Yuuri laughed as he lowered Victor’s back over his knee. There was a soft pink glow across Victor’s cheeks as he smiled up at him. “I actually still do it sometimes, as a warm-up or…” _when I miss you,_ he finished in his head as he pulled Victor back up-right.

The lack of hesitation in Victor’s movements showed that he was just as familiar with their little routine as Yuuri, though it took them a few tries and laughs to figure out how to move through the parts where they would be freely gliding along the ice. Eventually, they sketched out a feasible radius for their movements which was more intimate than it had been on the ice last summer. They were able to keep their hands joined more tightly, fingers laced together skin on skin. They added little caresses and snuck in teasing kisses as they went.

“Lift?” Victor asked as his hands came to rest firmly to Yuuri’s sides. 

Yuuri nodded and prepared himself, balancing his body and creating tension where it was needed, just as he was taught in theater. He heard Victor laughing in delight below him and couldn’t help but smile as he was spun in a slow circle in the middle of the living room. Unlike when they had first attempted the move on the ice, Yuuri landed on his feet. 

“We never got this far,” Victor murmured, as he dropped his cheek against Yuuri’s. 

Yuuri shook his head and started to guide their feet to move in a slow circle. “This is good,” he said, “just like this.”

He felt the heat of Victor all around him, could hear the light swish of their clothing as they swayed together. His heart was tripping in his chest and he willed it to slow down, as if its beating controlled time itself; this moment was one that Yuuri wanted to last. His fingers dug into Victor’s shoulder and he held on for dear life. 

“I’m so proud of you, my Yuuri,” Victor whispered against his temple. 

“Me too,” Yuuri sighed. “Of you, I mean.”

Victor pulled back slightly to cup his cheek and look him the eye. “It’s okay to be proud of yourself too,” he smiled. 

“I am,” he breathed. And it was the truth.

“Good.”

Slowly, so slowly, Victor shifted to find Yuuri’s lips. It was one of those kisses that weakened knees and stole breaths, a slow press that reminded him so much of one of the first kisses they had ever shared. Yuuri felt a small tremble as his nervous system was flooded with sensation. He wondered how many people had this - what he and Victor had right in this moment. He felt dizzy when his eyes next met Victor’s - the heat from the fire and dancing, the champagne, the raw emotion of the moment surging all at once was too much. He wished that Victor would close his eyes so that he could think straight, but at the same time he never wanted him to look away.

Victor did close his eyes eventually to kiss him again, with more purpose than before. Yuuri stumbled to sit on the couch when he felt the backs of his legs meet the cushions, and he felt the warm weight of Victor settling against him, straddling his thighs. He pulled tightly against Victor’s hips for more contact, sighing lightly as Victor licked deeply into his mouth, his head supported by Victor’s hands and the back of the couch. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you, Victor Nikiforov?” Yuuri wondered out loud between kisses.

Even in the dim, flickering light provided by the fireplace Yuuri could see the color in Victor’s cheeks as he smiled down at him. “I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, moving back in for another kiss. 

“You have,” Yuuri pointed out. 

Victor hummed as he dragged his lips down to Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri gasped, tilting his head back into the cushions as the kisses moved up and down his skin. Yuuri tightened his embrace around Victor, pulling him closer - every inch of space between them felt wasteful and left him aching. He wanted to yank Victor inside of himself, or crawl through Victor’s skin and wrap himself in his soul.

“You’re my best friend,” Victor finally whispered as he lifted his gaze to meet Yuuri’s once more. “You listen to me. You care about me. You make me feel so happy.” The skin of his palms, one against Yuuri’s cheek and one on his chest, was searing, electrifying. “You support me, you’ve always believed in me - even from the day we first met,”

“I try,” Yuuri breathed, answering in earnest.

He watched Victor’s mouth move, open and closed as he caught his breath. He ran his hands encouragingly up and down his spine, coaxing the words to flow freely whenever they were ready - seconds from now, days, weeks, or years - it didn’t matter. The hand laying on Yuuri’s chest was flexing almost imperceptibly over his heart.

_‘Can you feel my heart beat, Victor? How fast it moves for you?’_

Yuuri stared at him for a long moment, drowning in feeling before he dragged his hand up to cradle the back of Victor’s neck. There was a flicker of something, soft and tender and urgent behind Victor’s eyes that caused everything to click into place in Yuuri’s mind. There was a way to achieve the type of closeness Yuuri was craving - that they were both so obviously craving - a way to unleash the steady build of tension and something else that burned so brightly within Yuuri. 

He had found himself thinking about this more and more since the last time Victor had stayed with him, waking up and getting off imagining what sex would be like. It was something he’d never paid much attention to before Victor, having previously satisfied himself with fuzzy imagery and vague ‘what-ifs’. But with Victor everything was clear - he could see the appeal of sex if it was with Victor.

And so the desire to experience it with him had been slowly burning within him for the last several weeks; not necessarily for the hot steamy act of sex with lewd moans and gasps, but for the other side of sex, the emotional side. It wasn’t as if Yuuri hadn’t been looking forward to the physical pleasure of sex, because he certainly had been. It was more so that he was looking forward to being so intimately joined with Victor. The idea of having that type of connection, of taking and keeping Victor so deeply inside of himself was beautiful to Yuuri. It was kind of overwhelming at times how badly he wanted to experience this particular intimacy with Victor and only with Victor.

“I want you,” he whispered reaching up for Victor’s lips as the words morphed easily into a tender kiss. 

He pulled back slightly to gauge Victor’s reaction, nervous at his quiet boldness in voicing what he wanted in that perfect moment. It would be fine if Victor said he didn’t want to or wasn’t ready, he had been the one who suggested they take it slow in the first place. But Yuuri wanted to let him know that he was ready whenever Victor was. 

Yuuri saw color blooming across Victor’s cheeks, felt the shiver that went up the man’s spine, heard the small nervous exhale that left his lips. “Me too, my Yuuri. So much.”

He returned Victor’s shy smile with one of his own. He could feel the light and rapid flutter of Victor’s pulse where his fingers met his neck, beating at the same pace as the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. As much as Yuuri loved it when Victor was flirty and confident, his favorite Victor might be the nervous, vulnerable man in front of him now. The man that carved out a place in his life just for Yuuri. 

“Bed?” he asked. 

Victor nodded and stood to offer his hand. Yuuri guided him back toward the bedroom with deep kisses, as if each push of his lips, each hot lick of his tongue pulled invisible threads attached to Victor’s feet. Victor’s hands were working their way under Yuuri’s shirt, coaxing little goose bumps from his skin as more and more of his back and chest were revealed. They paused when Victor’s thighs brushed up against the mattress, separating briefly so that Victor could fully remove Yuuri’s shirt and glasses.

While Yuuri had been about to protest their removal, he found that the limitations of his vision allowed him to focus solely on Victor. All other features of the room, dimly lit by the street lamps’ glow peeping through the slats of the blinds, were fuzzy and dull. But Victor was clear and sharp, his eyes glittered like the deep and dark blue of a stormy ocean. He was smiling down at Yuuri now, his hands cupping either side of Yuuri’s face with delicacy. 

Yuuri felt a bit of heat build behind his eyes as Victor sat on the edge of the bed, gently pulling Yuuri down to straddle his legs. It was all hitting him again, what they had just achieved together and what they were about to, all crashing relentlessly into the walls of his heart. Yuuri placed his arms around Victor’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss him once more to anchor himself. “Hey,” he whispered, keeping their noses touching at the tip.

Victor hummed, smiling, as he began running his hands up and down Yuuri’s thighs. “Hey.”

Yuuri had to bite his lip to keep all of his words, all of his feelings from streaming out of himself and into Victor. He almost missed it when Victor asked him if he had any questions. He shook his head in response, trusting that Victor would walk and talk him through it.

“Okay,” Victor breathed, “If there is ever anything that we don’t like, we’ll stop and talk about it. Are you still okay with me…? We can always switch - whatever, whenever you want.”

Yuuri could only nod, not trusting his voice to remain steady through speech. He was bursting with all of the warm, fuzzy feelings that he always felt when he was around Victor.

“Are you okay? Yuuri - y-you look like you’re about to cry,” Victor said with light concern, his hands continuing to move in comforting patterns along Yuuri’s sides now. 

Yuuri let out a choked laugh as the first tear leaked from the corner of his eye. There was a feeling, burning hot inside of his chest whenever he looked at Victor, whenever he thought of Victor. Yuuri was beginning to suspect what it was, though putting a single word to such a strong, multidimensional feeling seemed so wrong. How could such a small word be used describe something so infinite?

“Hey, hey,” Victor cooed, “Solnyshko - my Yuuri, what is it?”

Yuuri smiled and pressed his forehead against Victor’s. “I’m just so…happy. You make me happy, Victor.”

Victor’s expression softened as he cupped one of Yuuri’s cheeks in his hand, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the rogue tear. “Me too, solnyshko,” he sighed, recognizing that Yuuri was not upset. “We’ll go slow, spend the whole night just exploring each other.”

Yuuri gasped as Victor moved to plant kisses along his neck. “I want you to feel nothing but pleasure when you take me inside of you.” 

Yuuri moaned deeply as Victor sucked a kiss into the side of his neck, just below his ear. He rocked his hips down against Victor’s, feeling his hardness mirrored there, covered by their jeans. He wanted this so badly. Growing a bit more eager, they helped each other out of their remaining clothing. Victor grabbed a spare towel to lay beneath them before joining Yuuri to lay on their sides, facing one another. 

Victor’s voice broke the soft silence that had fallen between them. “When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know that this was going to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

Victor smiled softly at him. “I’m not sure. I guess…” he laced his fingers through Yuuri’s. “It’s just one of those things where you wake up and everything’s normal. You just wake up and you have no idea how special that day will end up being. Well other than the World’s roster I guess.”

“You’re impossible,” Yuuri mumbled pressing his face into one of the pillows.

“Sorry, I can’t help it with you. Yuuri, you…you make me feel things I’ve never…”

He could see his own feelings reflected back at him on Victor’s face - the way his eyes were flickering and wet, cheeks pink, voice catching, lips and breath trembling. Maybe it was okay that words weren’t forming. Maybe words weren’t enough, would never be enough. Yuuri didn’t meet Victor with words at first, he met him with actions.

“Show me,” he whispered in encouragement, kissing Victor through his soft smile. 

Victor let out a soft gasp and rolled Yuuri onto his back with their next kiss. The world dissolved away as he let himself be completely engulfed by Victor’s caresses. They stayed like that for a long while, laying with their bodies pressed together just kissing, touching, feeling. Showing.

Eventually, Yuuri reached over to grab the bottle of lube from the night stand and helped Victor spread it over his first few fingers. He let Victor shift their bodies around, guiding his legs open. He wrapped an arm around Victor’s back to anchor himself, watching in an excited daze as those glistening fingers moved lower and lower. His lips parted to release a sigh when he felt them circling his entrance, marveling at how it was so much different from the one or two times he had experimented on his own. There was a soft sureness in Victor’s actions, a devotion in his eyes when they locked their gaze.

After a moment, the pressure focused in one place and Yuuri gasped in pleasure as his body started to open up to meet Victor. 

“Good?” Victor whispered. 

Yuuri nodded as he pulled Victor’s face closer to his. They kissed lazily between Yuuri’s sighs and moans as Victor continued to work him open. The stretch of two fingers felt good, three - even better once the initial burn had settled. And when Victor found that little spot inside of him…

Yuuri’s body lit up in pleasure. 

_“Victor!”_ he gasped as his hips rolled, pressing himself down further onto Victor’s hand. 

Victor’s eyes never left his face as his fingers pressed against the place again and again. Yuuri vaguely registered how his blue eyes grew just a bit wider, his blush just a bit darker, with each moan and gasp that he released into the space between them. He felt the slow rock of Victor’s cock against his hip, reminding him of what was to come.

Yuuri’s own was leaking when he finally willed himself to stay Victor’s hand. Victor simply nodded in understanding as he pulled his fingers out of Yuuri to wipe them on the towel below. Yuuri held his palm out expectantly and the curious look on Victor’s face only lasted a moment before he was tipping the lube over it. With trembling hands, Yuuri pulled him close and kissed him deeply as he worked over the part of Victor that was soon going to join them together. 

Victor rolled on top of him as they wiped their hands one final time. He kept one arm bent flush against Yuuri’s side, holding him tight, as the other moved to align their bodies properly. 

Despite his best efforts to relax, Yuuri felt himself immediately tense as Victor started to push in. He drew in his next breath sharply and released it shakily as he attempted to calm down. Victor’s free hand came to cradle his face, forcing their eyes to meet again. 

“Hey, it’s okay, my Yuuri. I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing each of Yuuri’s cheeks.

Yuuri nodded and smiled. “Yeah, it doesn’t feel bad it’s just…I feel so much… _more_ ,” he tried to explain. 

Victor nodded in understanding and let his hand slide up to grasp around his cock. Yuuri sighed into the new sensation, trying his hardest to keep his hips still as Victor gently stroked him. 

Victor added a bit more lube for good measure, coaxing Yuuri’s body to accept a bit more. “God, Yuuri…you’re still so tight. Breathe, relax for me a bit, okay? It’s been while since I’ve…” Victor moaned softly as he continued to shift his hips forward. “Amazing…you feel so perfect around me.”

Yuuri gasped in pleasure and felt his muscles flutter as he started to feel the fullness that Victor had told him about. Victor breathed sharply at the sensation and Yuuri had to remind himself to relax once more. Which was very hard to do once he realized that when he focused hard enough, he could feel Victor’s cock twitching inside of him with each pound of Victor’s heart.

“Have I ever told you about the first time I ever remember thinking that you were beautiful?” Victor asked suddenly, pressing his forehead into Yuuri’s.

Yuuri shook his head as he tried to even out his breathing. His body was selfish and wanted to clench down around Victor, to feel every last vein and pulse of life pumped by Victor’s heart. He couldn’t even imagine how much control Victor was exerting in that moment to keep himself from taking Yuuri completely. Yuuri planned to show him just how much he appreciated it later. 

Victor continued to slide little by little into Yuuri as he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, as he told Yuuri how he watched him practicing alone during their first camp. How he was so taken by Yuuri’s graceful movements, by Yuuri’s careful attention to every detail of his own body. That was when Victor first thought that Yuuri was beautiful, but it certainly wasn't the last. 

He told Yuuri about the first time he heard Yuuri’s voice, that it was soft and panicked in a language Victor didn’t know. He told Yuuri about the first time he saw him skate and how it made him feel so alive and inspired. He told Yuuri how safe he felt the night of the Grand Prix Final, wrapped in Yuuri’s arms. He told Yuuri how it felt the first time they kissed, the first time they touched.

“And now, Yuuri. Beautiful.” Victor’s forehead dropped to Yuuri’s shoulder. “You feel so good around me, so smooth,” he gasped as he pushed in further and stopped. “Th-thats it. You have all of me now.”

And Yuuri could feel so many truths from that one statement. The physical truth being Victor’s pelvis flush against his body, the emotional truth flickering deeply behind Victor’s eyes. He rubbed little circles into the back of Victor’s neck with his finger tips, whispering how good it felt as he adjusted. Yuuri moaned when he experimentally rolled his hips up against Victor’s. 

After a moment, Victor lifted himself to hover over Yuuri and pulled one of Yuuri’s legs tight against his chest. Yuuri gasped at how it deepened the feeling, how it caused Victor’s cock to brush against that delicious spot inside of him. Victor thrusted shallowly a few times, panting softly in pleasure while still taking careful notice of any feelings of discomfort flickering across Yuuri’s face. Yuuri would dare him to find any though - those few thrusts created the most beautiful friction and had him gasping in delight. 

“More,” Yuuri pleaded, his body trembling slightly under Victor’s hands.

And Victor started moving in earnest, thrusting himself fully in and out of Yuuri as they exchanged sloppy panting kisses which devolved into less graceful mouthing the longer and longer they continued. He dug his heels into the bed to lift his hips off the mattress, urging Victor to take him harder as he tilted his head back in ecstasy. How was it possible for two people to feel like this together? It was nothing like he had been expecting.

Yuuri felt himself clenching around Victor as he got closer and closer. He loved that feeling, the knowledge that it was Victor inside of him. _His_ Victor. Yuuri gasped suddenly, his back coming further off of the bed and his head pressing back into the pillow as he came hard between his and Victor’s chests. He saw the stars, thousands of them white hot and twinkling in Victor’s eyes when they met.

“Oh, Yuuri - _Yuuri_ ,” Victor was gasping above him. “Can I…inside of you?”

“Yes,” Yuuri smiled, his body still twitching in pleasure. 

Victor thrusted shallowly once, twice, before his hips started bucking wildly forward against him. Tears were leaking from the corners of Yuuri’s eyes at the physical and emotional overstimulation. Victor collapsed his forehead to Yuuri’s shoulder, panting loud and hot into his neck. He held on as his entire world was shattered and reconstructed around them, stronger than ever. Yuuri squeezed his arms even tighter against Victor’s back, pulling every inch of their skin to touch. 

He never _ever_ wanted to let go.

He distantly registered the gasp that simultaneously passed through both of their lips as Victor pulled out, a trail of fluid following in his wake, leaving Yuuri feeling incomplete. With shaky hands, Victor saw to cleaning them both, apologizing at Yuuri’s clear display of discomfort when the wipe circled just inside of him. They both took a turn in the bathroom before sinking back down into the still warm sheets. 

Yuuri’s fingers automatically found their way - one to Victor’s hair and the other to his hand - as Victor laid his cheek against his chest. They laid there for a few long minutes as their breathing continued to even out and Yuuri tried to tame the tempest raging inside of himself. He was happy and desperate and had no idea what to do with all of these things he was feeling. He wanted to cry, laugh, make love with Victor again and again. In the end, Yuuri leaned his face down to capture Victor’s lips with his own. Victor’s eyes were shining his cheeks flush, and Yuuri felt something different in that kiss. 

“How do you feel?” Victor whispered into the long still silence. 

Yuuri smiled at him. “Really, really good.”

Victor laughed as he peppered tiny kisses to Yuuri’s face. “Me too, solnyshko. Me too.”

“I didn’t know it - sex - was going to be like _that_ ,” Yuuri confessed as they both rolled onto their sides. 

Victor stared at him, long and searching. “I’ve never…That was special, my Yuuri.”

And deep down inside of himself, even though he had nothing else to compare it to, Yuuri knew it was true. What had just happened between them, here in the still darkness, was a special kind of magic.

xXx

Yuuri awoke to the familiar smell of skin and sweat. They had shifted at some point during the night or morning (Yuuri wasn’t sure which), and he was pressed tightly against Victor’s chest, their legs tangled up between the sheets. As usual, Victor had awoken first - Yuuri could tell by the idle caress of fingers in his hair and the barely there tension in his muscles that told him that he was being held. There was a difference between someone draping their arms around you and someone actually holding you, Yuuri had learned. The former was casual and passive, while the latter was careful and active. 

He engaged the muscles of his arms to hold Victor in return and planted a kiss to whatever skin he could find in front of him. He moved his head up to lay on the pillow, wanting to see Victor’s face after what they had shared last night. Their eyes met and it was all soft smiles and blushes as they both simply looked at each other. 

Yuuri wondered if they were thinking about the same things. The way their bodies had fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The way their lips had slid against each other in desperation near the end. The overwhelming pounding of their hearts against their ribs. The intensity of that feeling - the one that only existed between them, Victor and Yuuri. Yuuri and Victor. How that feeling was _theirs_ and no one else’s. 

Victor finally let out a light laugh as he moved to kiss Yuuri. “Good morning, solnyshko.”

“Ohayou, Vicchan.”

“How um…how do you feel?” Victor asked as he ran his fingertips lightly up Yuuri’s bare thigh. 

Yuuri’s blush intensified as he stretched his limbs out long across the bed. There was a slight burn, he noticed, but it wasn’t unpleasant given the circumstances. “Incredible,” he sighed in truth.

Victor’s face broke into a wide and goofy grin. “Did you sleep well then?”

Yuuri nodded. “Very,” he assured him. “I was having a dream, I think.”

“What did you dream about?” Victor asked propping himself up on his elbows.

Yuuri closed his eyes as the snippets started coming back to him. It was rare for him to remember his dreams, especially good ones, and this dream had been good even if it did make him a bit nervous. “Winning gold at Worlds,” he sighed; he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips. 

Victor laughed lightly. “Is that a challenge, zolotse?”

Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up at the prospect. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it yet. Luckily, Victor continued on: “Because I really hope it is. I’d love to see where we can go, chasing after each other,” he smiled wistfully. “But I’m not gong to go easy on you - you’re going to have to work for it.”

Yuuri felt a bit of tension release within him. Victor seemed excited by the idea - not dismissive or mad. Both of their eyes were drawn to the sharp ‘ping’ of Victor’s phone. He stretched an arm over Yuuri to reach for it. 

“But it looks like that will have to wait - skating that is,” he said with a sigh and stretch of his own. “Yakov said the generators failed at the rink last night and the staff is scrambling to get things ready for their New Year’s Eve event. No time for us to practice today.”

Yuuri sighed and tried not to let his disappointment show. “What do you want to do then?” he asked. 

Victor spent a few more moments swiping at his screen. “Hmmm, it actually looks like it’s going to be a nice day - they are calling for some actual sunshine. The high is decent,” he rambled. “We could take Makka to the park? She usually never gets to go.”

“That sounds perfect,” Yuuri said with a smile. 

Victor rolled onto his back, pulling Yuuri on top of him. “But first, I want to give you a proper good morning.” He nipped lightly at Yuuri’s lips as they re-tangled their limbs together. 

xXx

They made it out of the apartment sometime later, after sitting down for some tea and quick egg white omelets. Victor had whispered a few words into Yuuri’s ear, instructing him to call them out in the direction of the living area. Not a moment after he had done so, Makkachin came bounding over with a look of pure delight on her face as she jumped her paws up onto his thighs, pushing off and sprinting in the direction of the coat rack where she sat whining impatiently.

Apparently, the words he had just learned were Russian for ‘walk’ and ‘park’. 

The poodle barked with excitement as they coaxed her into a fluffy pink sweater and harness. Her tail bobbed impatiently, smacking between their legs as they pulled on their own winter gear. Just as Victor promised, the weather was gorgeous - or as nice as possible at least, especially after the fierce storm the night before. 

The snow was still a pristine white when they reached the park, which they had completely to themselves for the first half an hour or so. They took turns bounding through the snow as they raced Makkachin for frisbees and balls, jumping with unnecessary frills and twirls to catch them, and showering the poodle with endless praise when she made particularly spectacular catches. She barked excitedly when she dropped the toys at their feet, and whined in protest when they did their ‘clever’ fake throws. 

Despite the occasional gust of biting wind, Yuuri was feeling warmer than he had in ages. Victor’s laughter was a constant chime ringing out across the otherwise still winter air and Yuuri caught himself staring at his bright smile more than once over the course of the afternoon. His heart soared just a bit higher each time Victor call his name across the park. At one point Makkachin had Victor flat on his back, her paws pressed into his shoulders, drool dripping from the toy she had triumphantly snagged from between his hands. 

Yuuri pulled out his phone and snapped several pictures before he was pulled into the pile himself. Makkachin barked excitedly as she covered them both with kisses as her humans made their stomachs ache with laughter. She laid down across their chests to catch her breath and warm her paws in their scarves. Yuuri twisted his head to look at Victor, both of them smiling in amusement and acceptance of their temporary fate as a makeshift doggie pillow. Victor met him halfway when he started to scoot closer for a kiss. 

They eventually got up when a stray ball came their way; Victor tossed it back to the child as they brushed the snow off of their backs. It had been too long since he had played with Vicchan like this, he realized with a painful throb of his heart. He knew his own pup would have been overjoyed to have so much attention and activity. As if reading his mind, Victor handed Yuuri the end of the leash as they started walking in search of lunch - just like the first time Yuuri had met Makkachin so many years ago. 

“Do you think they would like each other, Makka and Vicchan?” Victor asked as he slipped his hand inside of Yuuri’s pocket in search of his hand. 

Yuuri laced their gloved fingers together and squeezed tightly. “Vicchan has never really had any other dogs to play with,” he mused, smiling as Makkachin paused to investigate a row of bare shrubbery. “but I think he’d like having a friend.”

“Do you miss him?”

Yuuri nodded as he gently pulled the poodle back on track. 

“We’ll have to plan a trip. We still haven’t met Yuuko’s girls yet,” Victor said, planting a kiss to Yuuri’s temple.

Yuuri opened his mouth to agree when he was stopped by a mouthwatering aroma. His stomach rumbled loudly, drawing Victor’s attention. “There’s a Christmas market around the corner - want to go?” he asked. 

“Yes please, that smells amazing.”

“Let’s drop Makka off at home first - she’s probably worn out. We aren't too far from home now - we won’t have to backtrack too much,” Victor said as he steered them through an alleyway. “We can get a late lunch there, and some spiced wine.”

There were twinkling lights strung up along every pole and tree that they passed in the market place. Small little shops had been constructed and were decked with wreaths and sparkling garland. There were bookshops, jewelers, and crafters of all sorts helping customers browse and select perfect gifts for loved ones. 

Yuuri found a few things to send back home for his family and Vicchan, as well as a few small things for himself to remember his stay here. Victor grabbed some homemade holiday treats for Makkachin and a scarf for Yuuri after the old woman who made it had declared she would see it go home with no-one else. Victor introduced him to crepes with caviar and the wonderful joy that was mulled wine (which Victor ended up circling back to buy the kit for). 

They walked hand in hand among the other couples as they sipped their wine and pointed out different and unique wares. The atmosphere only became more romantic as the evening darkness settled in. Yuuri felt weightless as Victor kissed him softly, the notes of spiced wine and the dark chocolate they had shared for dessert mixing between their tongues.

“Let’s go home,” Victor said after a few long moments. His face was soft as he smiled down at Yuuri, his thumb lightly stroking over Yuuri’s cheek bone as he chased his lips for one final kiss.

Makkachin greeted them with enthusiasm as they slowly shed their outer layers of clothing and accessories. It was clear that she was going to sleep very well that night after such a long day at the park. Yuuri watched as she trotted along at Victor’s heels as he prepared her dinner.

Later, they found themselves curled up in a pile of blankets on the floor in front of the electric fire place sipping their second round of spiced wine as they browsed interesting sounding shows on Netflix. Nothing was really holding their attention, but Yuuri honestly couldn’t think of anything he’d rather be doing in that moment than just laying there with Victor by his side. Eventually, they got lost in kisses and soft touches, whispers and giggles, in front of the fire. 

“You planned for this, didn’t you,” Yuuri smiled in amusement as Victor wiggled a small bottle out of his pocket.

“I was rather hopeful, yes,” Victor smirked. “It’s romantic, okay?”

“It’s cheesy,” Yuuri countered. 

“And dragging me off to bed after seeing our childhood dream come true and slow dancing in the living room wasn’t cheesy?” Victor teased, stealing a kiss from Yuuri’s lips.

Yuuri blushed - okay maybe it had been a bit cheesy. “That was different - the mood was…”

“And now the mood isn’t…?” Victor smiled with a raised brow. 

“It is.” he blushed harder as he shifted his legs around.

“So let me romance you,” Victor pouted. 

They helped each other out of their clothing and Yuuri let Victor guide him back to lay on the plush blanket. 

“Comfortable?” Victor asked as he placed a pillow behind his head. 

“Little chilly,” Yuuri smiled as he pulled Victor and the covers on top of him. 

The little bottle went click and Yuuri allowed his eyes to flutter shut as Victor’s fingers worked their way inside of him. And when he caught sight of Victor’s eyes shimmering in the firelight, he was forced to admit that yes, this was incredibly romantic. Perfectly in tune with the events of the day.

“And just so you know,” Victor said as he kissed along Yuuri’s neck, “our first time was absolutely perfect. I’ll never forget it.”

They took their time, wrapped up in the tight cocoon of covers, as Victor thrusted shallowly into him, more of a grind really. Most of their energy was poured into passionate kisses and tight embraces as they rocked against each other, breaking the still silence around them with the sliding of skin on skin and soft praises that occasionally leaked from their lips between kisses. 

“Happy New Year, Yuuri,” Victor breathed into his hair sometime after they had both come with breath gasps of each other’s name. 

Yuuri curled his fingers more tightly into Victor’s shoulders. “They say that whatever you’re doing at midnight is supposed to set the tone for the rest of the year.”

“That’s more than fine with me,” Victor smiled, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. 

Yuuri opened his mouth to agree when the room lit up in a dazing blue flash, followed shortly by thunderous ‘boom’. He saw Makkachin startle awake and stumble over to them from her bed across the room. Victor immediately sat up to pet the shaking poodle, whispering lovingly into her ears to calm her. Yuuri shook his head in understanding when Victor flashed him an apologetic smile - Vicchan also hated loud and sudden noises.

Yuuri excused himself to use the bathroom and dress - borrowing again from Victor’s pajama pile. He snagged the wipes from the bedside table and clothes for Victor before heading back out to the living room. He coaxed Makkachin into his arms so that Victor could make himself decent. The poodle whined after him. 

“Sh-sh, stay with me for a minute,” he cooed. “I know I’m a poor substitute but…” Makkachin squirmed as another round of fireworks went off. 

They ended up curled up in the bathroom, the most interior room of the apartment, until the immediate excitement died down. Yuuri must have fallen asleep at one point, because the next thing he knew, Victor was gently shaking him awake so they could get into bed for the night. They situated themselves so Victor could hold onto both Yuuri and Makkachin, an agreeable arrangement to all.

xXx

The next day, Yuuri’s last in Russia, passed way too quickly. Before he knew it, he was kissing Victor goodbye outside of Pulkovo International, suitcase in hand. Yuuri felt a new kind of anxious as he stood there, not wanting to let go, not ready for their incredible week to be over. But there were things he needed to do and all were waiting for him back in Detroit. He had been trying to pep himself up by reminding himself of the new training schedule he had gotten Celestino to agree to since he had decided to drop one of his classes for the semester. 

_You are going to start training like a World Champion,_ he told himself.

But his throat was still aching and his heart was still heavy, and probably would be for several days to come.

He pulled Victor in for one last, desperate kiss. “I don’t want to leave,” he admitted quietly. 

Victor squeezed him more tightly and Yuuri felt the scorching heat of his exhale against his face. “And I don’t want you to leave.”

Yuuri’s phone started trilling excessively - his last resort ‘leave-immediately-or-you-will-miss-your-flight’ alarm. They forced themselves to put a few feet between their bodies. “Tell your parents I said thanks again - and wish them a Happy New Year for me,” he said with a forced smile.

Victor laughed. “Only if you do the same for yours.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement, biting his lip as he tried to find a better, less sad word for goodbye. _Why can’t ever it just be ‘hello’ without a goodbye?_ he wondered. The time and space between those two words was absolute bliss, and that final word was always a dagger in his chest; it grew sharper and sharper, twisted deeper and deeper every time he said it.

“Dasvidaniya,” he finally said. 

“Dasvidaniya, my Yuuri,” Victor replied with a sad smile.

One foot after the other, Yuuri made his way away from the curb and into the lobby. So far, so good. His phone buzzed again and he rolled his eyes, swearing he had hit ‘stop’ instead of ‘snooze’. Yuuri looked down in surprise to see Victor’s face illuminated on the screen.

“Yuuri…I can’t…how did you do it?” came Victor’s voice when Yuuri placed the phone to his ear. 

“Do what?” he breathed.

“Drive away? Last spring when you dropped me off at the airport. How did you…I can’t just…”

Yuuri stopped dead in his tracks, ignoring the irritated words from the woman walking behind him. He looked back over his shoulder to see Victor staring at him from his car, still parked with it’s flashers on at the curb. He swallowed painfully, his heart throbbing at the sight, every cell in his body urging him to run back the way he came. He had never missed Victor more in his entire life than he did right in that instant. Even if you summed up every single moment he had spent without Victor over the years and flooded his body with them right at that moment, Yuuri was sure that stretch of these last few seconds would still hurt more deeply.

But he knew that no matter how much it hurt, how unnatural it felt, Yuuri had to get on the plane. He had heard it said before that falling for someone was equal parts pain and joy. He trusted in what he had with Victor, trusted that they could do this. So he smiled and told the truth. 

“The woman in the car behind me laid on her horn and I panicked and punched the gas.”

He heard Victor let out a choked out sob-laugh. “I wondered what that was.”

Yuuri sighed in relief when he saw a faint smile cross Victor’s face. “Victor I…I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Text me?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said. He heard the hesitation between them as neither wanted to say goodbye. Instead, he raised his hand and waved at Victor as he ended the call. 

 

_16 hours later_

 

 **[Mitch, 18:00]:** Dude, Trevor totally moved out over the holiday  
**[Mitch, 18:02]:** Apparently he got put on academic probation and his parents just pulled him out  
**[Mitch, 18:03]:** Kinda feel bad for him, but at the same time —- good riddance!  
**[Mitch, 18:06]:** Anyway, I’ll be in the cell phone lot in a half hour so call me when you get your luggage and all that and I’ll pull around front

 

 **[Mari, 18:20]:** Mom and dad want to hear about your trip — Skype this week?

 

 **[Celestino, 18:25]:** We had to trade ice time with the hockey team. See you at 10 tomorrow instead of 7.

 

 **[Victor, 18:45]:** I still can’t sleep  
**[Victor, 18:45]:** Call me when you get settled?  
**[Victor, 18:45]:** I miss you so much

 

 **[Phichit, 19:03]:** Guess who got tickets to 4C?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I have a wedding to go to next weekend, so there might be a bit of a delay again before another chapter goes up - but I'm so excited to be writing it!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long to get out - my original outline for this chapter was not producing content I was happy with. So this chapter might be a bit different from what you may have been expecting after the end of the last one, but trust me when I say it's much better this way and still manages to cover all of the ground (plus some!) that I originally intended -- just in a different setting.
> 
> Thank you all for your amazing feedback on the last chapter - it was one of my favorites so far to write and I'm so so soooo over the moon that you liked it :)

**_January - March 2013_ **

 

A raincloud followed Yuuri for the first two weeks of January, joining him at the airport in Detroit as a light, familiar silver grey and quickly turning to muddy black when he arrived back to his dorm and the daily grind. When it wasn’t raining, it shrouded him in a cloak of humid air that made it hard to breathe. When it was raining, it drenched him until his clothing felt lead-heavy and itchy against his skin. It generated winds that flicked angry droplets into his eyes, down his cheeks, and chilled him straight to the bone. Its thunder boomed memories of happy laughter and gasps of passion. Its lightning bolts were flashes of smiles and Victor’s face in the firelight. They struck and rumbled in moments when Yuuri was most vulnerable to shock - the mornings when he wasn’t sure where he was waking up, and at the rink when he lost himself a bit too far in skating. 

Those weeks were long and slow and Yuuri hated them, hated feeling heavy and empty and sad. But, as always, the storm eventually subsided (or maybe he just got used to the feeling of loneliness). By the third week, he and Victor fell back into the familiarity of their long-distance reality. Texts good morning, calls during lunches and breaks, Skype dates, and the occasional low, deep whispers of vivid fantasies. 

The neighboring halves of January and February passed in a flurry of syllabi, powerpoint slides, rink ads, skate laces, and long nights in Celestino’s office as they prepared for the Four Continents Championships. The event itself even flew by, no matter how hard Yuuri tried to hold on to every moment of it. Phichit had flown out to meet them as an early birthday gift from his parents. He’d been there in the stands to support Yuuri and an old friend representing Team Japan for ladies’ singles. Yuuri had been too nervous about his upcoming program at the time to inquire further about the connection, but now that Phichit was here in Detroit he would have plenty of time to get to know his rink mate. 

Despite getting along so well with Phichit on their Skype chats, Yuuri had still been a bit nervous to meet him in person. People could be different, more comfortable, behind their computer - what if he and Phichit had no chemistry in person? Thankfully, all of those fears were unfounded and Phichit was even more friendly and energetic in the flesh. Yuuri found himself disappointed on the flight home that it would still be another week before Phichit finally arrived for good in Detroit. He was actually looking forward to having a rink mate, and that was an incredibly surprising feeling.

The rest of February had passed without much fanfare, aside from Valentine’s Day of course - the events of which Yuuri was quite proud of. He had arranged (with Mrs. Nikiforov’s help) for groceries to be delivered to Victor’s apartment, just around the time when Yuuri knew he would be starting to think about dinner. His roommates had cleared out of the kitchen area for the evening, allowing Yuuri and Victor to cook dinner ‘together’ just as they had over the holidays. Yuuri could still remember the look on Victor’s face as he pieced together the groceries, emailed recipe, and bottle of wine. He had been rendered absolutely speechless, which left Yuuri feeling more than a little smug. 

Until his own gift arrived, at least. Half-way through dinner (when Yuuri would normally be coming back from the rink) there was a knock at the door which left Victor blushing the color of the roses sitting in the vase just next to him. _‘I hadn’t expected to be with you when you got it,’_ he said.

Yuuri had returned to the kitchen with a pot of brilliant blue orchids. _‘They’re easy to keep alive - they’ll last longer in your room than a more typical arrangement,’_ Victor explained. _‘Um, there should be an envelope too - but let me know if it won’t work out.’_

Yuuri knew better by then not to ask how Victor managed to get the floral company to deliver a letter written in his own hand. 

_My Yuuri -_

_Last year, I spent today thinking about you even though you weren’t mine. It hurt to know that you were thousands of miles away from me and I couldn’t see you, that I couldn’t tell you that I was thinking about you. I remember spending an hour on the couch with a glass of wine as I typed out a text message about our kiss on the train station platform and how I wanted it to happen again. I deleted it in the end because I knew that when I finally got around to telling you how I felt, I wanted to be able to see your face and kiss those lips a thousand times._

_Today, you are still thousands of miles away, but at least I know what your face looks like when I tell you how beautiful you are and how you make me feel so alive. I know how your heart sounds when you sleep and the way my name sounds coming from your lips as you dream. I know the addicting taste of your kisses and the way your body feels against mine. I know I can’t hold you today, but please know that I am thinking about you with every second that passes._

_You are probably surprised by the flowers - I know they aren’t our usual, but they represent a lot of things that I have come to love about you. Over the years I have kept you in my life, I’ve come to know more and more of your beauty, charm, elegance and strength. The blue…_

_…is to remind you of my eyes._

_Okay— kidding on that one (kind of), but this shade of blue is meant to promote rest and ease tension and anxiety. I was told that they are a hardy flower that should survive even in your tiny little dorm room and I hope they can provide you the comfort I wish for you when I can’t be there with you._

_There should also be some tickets for the symphony with this letter. They are for the week we started dating nearly a year ago. If the date doesn’t work out, please let me know so I can reschedule my flights for another time, but I would very much like to come and stay with you again. You have brought me so much joy this year, Yuuri, and I hope I have been able to give you that as well._

_See you soon, solnyshko. You are my impossibly bright star. XOXOXOXOXO, Victor_

True to Victor’s word, the orchids were still in full bloom and their presence made Yuuri’s days brighter with hope. They sat on his desk right below his calendar which quickly filled with colorful ‘X’s in each and every box as the days ticked by. 

Twenty-four more days.

Fifteen.

Nine.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

xXx

“Does this look right?” Celestino asked.

Yuuri leaned across the desk as the monitor was flipped towards him. His eyes squinted against the brightness of the screen, his eye-brain connection still adjusting to his glasses after going so long without them on the ice. His program flicked through his mind’s eye at triple speed as he inspected the text on the screen. 

“It feels right,” he said, nodding his head surely. He winced at the movement - he would have to remember to pick up some ibuprofen on his way home.

The corner of Celestino’s mouth twitched up as his finger slapped against the mouse. ‘Submitted!’ appeared in big bold text where his planned program content sheet was moments before. 

“It’s a really good program, Yuuri,” he said, reclining back into his chair.

“It got there in the end, didn’t it?” Yuuri said, wondering what the version of himself that existed six months ago would have thought about all of the changes that had been made. 

Celestino hummed in agreement as he shook his head with a smile. “I’m glad we sorted out that transition segment and jump passage in the free program - what we had for Four Continents wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t as good as this.”

A trill of energy worked its way through his muscles as they remembered the satisfying way his skate had hit the ice that afternoon, coming out of the jump sequence right in perfect sync with the peak of the piano crescendo. In that moment it had been like the music was responding to his skating, that Yuuri was the one who resurrected the melody one last time with his rapid footwork. At Four Continents, he had made the mistake of trying to start the segment with his quad salchow, pushed to the back for the bonus scoring. But the jump was still inconsistent and any sort of hesitation - even just a tap of his fingers on the ice like at Four Continents - broke the momentum making him feel like he was just trying to catch up for the rest of the program.

And Yuuri was done with all of that. He was done skating like he was just trying to survive. Like - 

Something in Celestino’s eye caught his attention. That gleam was there again, the same one Yuuri had been catching flashes of every time he skated close enough to the boards to see his coach’s face during their afternoon practice. It was about this time when his coach would smack his hands together and launch into details for their travel plans, reminding him to set an alarm and ‘eat your damn breakfast, Katsuki’ before shooing him out of his office for the night. 

But the seconds passed and the loudest sound in the room was still the ticking of the razor thin red second hand as it moved across the yellowed face of the clock on the wall. Yuuri shifted in his seat, inching his hands between the backs of his thighs and the padding of the chair. He was thankful, not for the first time, for the physically demanding nature of his profession - it (usually) kept him too busy to be aware of the fact that he was being studied.

Finally, the man across from him spoke: “Yuuri, I still don’t know exactly what it was that flipped your switch - and you don’t have to tell me. Sometimes people don’t even know themselves what triggers inspiration like this.”

Yuuri fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket, brilliant blue against jet black. He waited. 

“After what happened earlier this season, I’ll admit I was a bit hesitant to push you into a training schedule like this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words rolling off of his tongue faster than he could think them. 

He had never really confided in his coach the true extent of what he had been dealing with throughout the first half of the previous semester, only bits and pieces and only when the memories of canceling private sessions had weighed too heavily on his conscious. He knew that Celestino would have been supportive, and still would lend a sympathetic ear and sound advice should Yuuri ever choose to tell him, but the less time spent lingering in that past, the better.

He saw the shadow of Celestino’s hand flicker across the desk, a light flicking of the wrist. “I meant I wasn’t willing to force you into a place that you weren’t ready to be - not that you disappointed me. I didn’t want to scare you off while you were still settling in.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Yuuri said, raising his head fully for the first time. “I…this is what I want. I know I get anxious about things, that I resist things sometimes, but please don’t side step around me. If there’s anything I learned from the beginning of the season,” he let out a breath, “it’s that sometimes I can be a bit…blind? Or maybe stubborn I guess, about things and it’s not always the best for me.”

Celestino let out an amused laugh and Yuuri saw that his eyebrows had crept up near his hairline. “Well I’ll agree with you on that, Katsuki. You can be quite stubborn, but it’s not always a bad thing. Let’s just try to keep things in balance moving forward.”

“You’ve done so much in these few months, even since Four Continents we’ve brought your base score up by a full ten points. I know it’s still not exactly podium contending for the competition at Worlds, but I think it’s a great start for what can be in you future.”

He and Celestino talked about it at great length and they both agreed that they had little room to increase it technically by a vast amount with the time they had left in the season. They had a few tricks up their sleeves for Worlds, but the simple fact was that Yuuri was not going to be able to add another type of quad to his program if he didn't want deductions. Developing those skills took time. 

His best hope was to play to his strengths and bring perfection to his programs and hope that the others racked up those deductions. He had proven to himself and his peers at the NHK Trophy that his PCS could easily make up for what his technical score lacked - he just had to keep his headspace clean.

“Not to mention, you’re setting a phenomenal precedent for what it means to be a member of the Detroit Skating Club - Chulanont’s jaw practically hit the floor when he saw your new schedule. He’s determined to keep up now, so just watch out for what you’ve started.”

“O-oh, I guess I just assumed he was always that enthusiastic about everything,” Yuuri laughed nervously. 

His coach rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. “Anyway, early start tomorrow - I want to be on the road by five. I’m heading home for the night and I’ve told the crew here not to let you back on the ice, so no sneaking around,” Celestino warned. 

Yuuri smiled. He had no intention of get back at it tonight, though he appreciated his coach’s concern for his well being. As it happened, he had other plans.

xXx

Yuuri sent a ‘look’ at his rink mate as his phone vibrated on the table in front of him, the ‘#CiaoCiao’sChampions’ and ‘#DetroitDuo’ catching his eye in the Instagram notifications. Those tags had apparently ‘trended’ on certain social media platforms among some of the smaller circles of skaters during their little excursions in Osaka for Four Continents, and Yuuri had gained nearly a hundred new followers thanks to Phichit’s careful documentation of their first ‘story’ as rink mates. It started with a picture of the pair with Celestino after the short program warm-ups, followed the two of them as they explored the rooftop gardens downtown, and ended with a picture of Yuuri nearly falling asleep into his continental breakfast the morning he left to go back to Detroit. 

Phichit shrugged as he snapped another picture of Yuuri and his bowl of avocado ‘ice cream’ (#TheDessertofChampions #OneMoreWeek). 

“Yuuuuuriiii,” Mitch whined, “I can’t believe this event is only a two hour drive from here, and we still can’t go because it’s in the middle of the school week.”

“Well if you didn’t have that exam, we could have made the free skate on Friday,” Kevin said. 

Yuuri blushed as he scraped the plastic spoon against the bottom of the foam bowl.

“Cruel and unusual punishment - who schedules exams for Friday evenings anyway? I probably got the only prof that does,” Mitch sighed. “Just take Phichit with you, leave me behind to waste away.”

“Tickets are already sold out - I checked last weekend,” Phichit said. 

Yuuri hugged his knees in to his chest. “You guys probably have better things to do anyway. It’s not that big of a deal, really.”

It was impossible to miss Mitch’s overdramatic eye roll. “Yeah, okay. Even if it wasn’t a big deal - which it is - you come to all of our shit on campus, the least we could do is go to yours.”

Yuuri felt his lips scrunch up as he tried to force the smile off of his face. “Yeah well…”

“Anyway - speaking of events on campus,” Phichit interrupted, “I’m almost done editing the shots from your dress rehearsal last week. They should be ready to go by the weekend.”

Yuuri sat back, content, as he listened to the trio talk about the upcoming show - the last of the semester. He felt silly for ever feeling nervous about introducing Phichit to his roommates. Mitch and Kevin had immediately adopted the younger man into their little group, immediately hooking him up with a part time job the moment they learned he was into photography. Their last photographer had graduated at the turn of the semester, and no one else had really expressed much interest, or they had other conflicts and priorities. Phichit had only been here for a few short weeks and had already done updated headshots for several students’ portfolios and was helping refresh the theater department’s advertising strategies for their shows. 

“…won’t work for me - Dan and I are checking out an apartment that evening. Maybe Thursday?”

This drew Yuuri’s attention back to the group. “Apartment?”

He watched in curiosity as Mitch’s face turned an unfamiliar shade of pink as he picked some lint from his shirt. “Oh um yeah. We’ve decided to move in together, Dan and I.”

“Wow - that’s…really great,” Yuuri breathed as his chest constricted. 

“Thanks. With the whole Trevor debacle, I was planning on moving out anyway and we got to talking and it sounded like a good option,” Mitch said. 

“Trevor debacle?” Phichit asked. 

“The couple you heard sometimes on Skype,” Yuuri supplied. “He moved back home over break so he could have a more focused environment for school.”

“I’m looking for apartments too - never ever having a roommate again if I can help it, even if I know them. No offense to any of you,” Kevin said glancing around their little circle. 

“So what are you going to do, Yuuri? Move over to the skating club dorms?” Mitch asked, tossing his own bowl onto the table with the others.

Yuuri bit his lip - what was he going to do? Part of him had just figured that, with Trevor gone, the three of them would just apply for a smaller suite of single rooms. He hadn’t really given much weight to the idea that he might be searching for an apartment alone. 

“Ugh, Yuuri. Don’t do the skating dorms. As much as I want you as a neighbor, I cannot recommend them in good conscious,” Phichit warned. “It’s super dead, like eerie to walk through the halls at night. Unless the speed skaters or hockey teams are having a party - then good luck getting sleep. Plus, communal bathrooms and a really small kitchen. It’s honestly surprising considering the complex isn’t that old. Celestino says it gets better in the summer when other figure skaters come for workshops and stuff. I’m more or less stuck there until I start bringing in some more funds, but…I would not suggest it.”

“Oh, well…I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” Yuuri said, hoping the conversation would move in another direction. He did not want to have to bring this new worry with him to Worlds.

“But anyway, it’s getting a bit late. Would you mind taking me back, Yuuri?” Phichit asked. 

After being assured by Mitch and Kevin that they were not needed to help clean up, the pair walked out to Yuuri’s car. Yuuri spent the first half of the ride being lectured on the importance of posting his own content from the competition for his fans, and not relying on Victor and the others to do it for him. He had finally agreed to one photo per day, though he wasn’t sure he would ever understand the hype over social media. 

“How are you feeling about nationals - they’re coming up in a few weeks, right?” Yuuri asked as he turned onto the main road, jumping on his first opportunity to change the subject. 

As Celestino had said earlier that evening, Phichit had been training very hard since officially joining their rink. So, it was a bit of a surprise when Yuuri heard a very noncommittal ‘meh’ from the seat next to him.

“If you’re nervous, you shouldn’t be. Your programs are great and I’m sure Celestino has even more ideas now that you’re actually here training with him,” Yuuri reassured, remembering his own wariness of returning to his home after relocating to Detroit. 

He saw the curious glance Phichit sent his way as Yuuri took the next turn. “You don’t know much about figure skating in Thailand, do you?”

Yuuri’s hand tightened around the wheel. He didn’t know much about figure skating in any country really, at least those that weren’t Russia. Or Japan. Phichit correctly interpreted his silence as a ‘no’ and continued on. 

“The first year I competed at Junior Nationals, I only got to skate my short program. Apparently the rink staff had double booked the rest of the weekend with a speed skating event, and it was much easier to re-schedule a competition for less than a dozen figure skaters than an international event. Spoilers - it never got rescheduled.”

“The next year I went home with a silver medal, and gold the year after that,” he sighed. “But everyone who competed went home with a medal those years - in fact, the year I won silver there was actually no one there to win bronze. Figure skating just doesn’t get attention or interest in Thailand. The rinks in Bangkok are always packed and practice time can actually be a challenge to come by, but the reason for that is not figure skating.”

Yuuri cast a quick glance over his left shoulder before merging last minute into the left turn lane. 

“I haven’t competed in…two years now? Since my coach retired, and I doubt that things have changed too much. But, I keep telling myself that maybe if I keep going, maybe if I can make it to other events, people will notice and be inspired. So that’s how I feel about Nationals,” Phichit ended with a light laugh.

Yuuri dropped his hands to his lap at the next red light and glanced over at Phichit. He had always been too nervous about competing to really appreciate the fact that he had people to compete against. “Two years is a pretty long time to keep at it alone,” he murmured.

Phichit shrugged. “I had a three year gap when I was younger and my first coach quit when the local rink closed down - that was before my dad got his job in Bangkok. It was fine though - both times I kept myself busy with dance. A bit of ballet, tap, hip hop…it was all pretty fun, but I know where my feet belong and I want others to know that skates are an option for them as well.”

They discussed dancing over the last few minutes of their trip. All the while, the back of Yuuri’s mind was spinning, churning with questions for Phichit that were probably better left for a later time - he didn’t seem to want to dwell for too long on the subject. They pulled up in front of the towering grey building, dark with the exception of a few dim lights peeping through the slats of the blinds. It did not scream of artistry or kindness, but it was like the ice in that it seemed cold and hard. Maybe if Yuuri found a cheap enough place close to the rink…

“Well this is me,” Phichit chirped as he clicked the button on his seatbelt. “Good luck this week, Yuuri. We’ll all be watching you!”

Yuuri wanted to press his palms to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he said. 

“Seriously, just remember to have fun - you’re a different skater when you do.”

“Um, okay,” Yuuri laughed. “Good night - see you next week.”

Yuuri felt inspired as he started his journey back to his own dorm, inspired yet a bit pressured - but not in a bad way. Phichit had never had a stable home rink, and Yuuri wanted to make sure he felt at home here. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he was determined to think of something over the next few weeks.

His suite was quiet when he returned, though he could see the light streaming out from both Mitch and Kevin’s doors. It would be strange to come back from the rink at night and not see those other signs of life… _‘Another day,’_ he thought as he walked into his own room.

His bags were packed and all of his alarms and back up alarms were set to meet Celestino’s schedule. He pulled on his pajamas and curled up into the blankets with his phone, his impatience mounting with each trill he heard through the ear piece.

“Are you here yet?” Victor’s voice greeted him - Yuuri could hear the soft rustle of sheets in the background.

“You know I’m not,” Yuuri said with a smile.

“Well hurry up - this bed is too big and my arms are too empty.”

“I know, I miss you too, Vicchan.”

“How was practice?” Victor asked after a moment.

“It was good,” Yuuri said. “Really good. It was nice to have a rink to myself, even if it meant waiting a bit longer to see you.”

“Mmm good - I’ll accept nothing but your best effort this week,” Victor hummed. 

Yuuri’s heart was flipping in his chest in a flurry of nerves and excitement and longing. These few months without Victor had been emotionally ruthless in a way that their time apart never had been before. They took turns being strong because when one of them wasn’t they both ended up with red eyes and no sleep.

But, he reminded himself, tomorrow it would be the distance that would be the dream. Even if it was just for a few days.

“Yuuri, what do you want me to be to you this week?”

Yuuri felt his brow crease as he shook away his previous train of thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we decided we are both okay with answering media questions about us, but we never really talked about other boundaries,” Victor started. “This week - and in the future - what do you want me to be to you at competitions? Your rival? Mentor? Fan? Friend? Lover?”

Yuuri laughed at the little deep, sexy lilt in Victor’s voice at the last one. “I just want you to be yourself - just be Victor.”

“But I’m all of those things, Yuuri,” Victor pouted. “Especially your fan.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “So then _be_ all of those things. Nothing has to change just because I’m going to try and take the gold medal from your neck.”

This earned him a laugh and a teasing _‘Yuuuuri’_ before Victor finally composed himself. “Okay, but can I kiss you at the rink before you skate - for good luck? Will you hold my hand at the boards before I take the ice?”

He imagined it for a moment, leaning over the half wall of the rink to place a gentle kiss on Victor’s cheek, their hands trying to squeeze through their gloves to reach the warm skin below. He wouldn’t be able to see Victor’s face from the ice - he would be a fuzzy blob like the rest of the crowd - but Yuuri wouldn’t need to see his face to know that Victor would be smiling, that his eyes would be sparkling. He hoped that their schedules would line up so this could happen, because there wasn’t anything he wanted more. 

“Of course,” he said simply. 

They chatted for a bit longer about what Victor had been up to so far - mostly skating and catching up with Chris, as expected. Though, he had also spend some time scouting out places where they could escape on a date or two if time allowed for it. (Yuuri would make sure time allowed it.) It was beginning to feel more real by the second.

“Oh Victor,” Yuuri said just as they were about to say their goodnights, “when I get there tomorrow, how should I get the key?”

“Hm? Oh right - I put your name on the reservation and also talked with the desk staff. Just tell them your name and ask for the key. Room 2215.”

Yuuri made a note of the room number. “And how much -“

“Nope! If you really want to, you can get the next one,” Victor insisted. “When will you get here?”

“Seven or eight - but Celestino is dragging me off to the seamstress right away. My sleeve snagged on my toe pick during a spin at 4C, and apparently it’s worse than I thought it was.”

“Mmm - probably for the best. I’ll probably miss you then - Yakov usually prefers to get to the rink early for the open practice and we probably won’t stay for too long, especially since we had some longer sessions today.”

Yuuri’s heart fell a bit in disappointment. “Yeah, I’ll be pretty busy for a while I think, but…”

“Dinner - definitely for dinner. Hopefully before,” Victor said, and Yuuri could hear the bright smile in his voice. 

“See you tomorrow, Vicchan.”

“Goodnight, solnyshko. I…I’m really excited to see you.”

Yuuri smiled as he caught sight of the clock next to his bed. In less than eight hours, he and Victor would be in the same city. “Me too.”

It took Yuuri a while to settle down enough after the call ended to fall asleep. His mind was alive and active, envisioning every possibility that the week held for him. The moment he had been waiting for his whole life had finally arrived, and it tasted just as good as he had imagined it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and believe me when I say that I am so excited for the next chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!! Writing this chapter was surprisingly a difficult and incredibly emotional experience, though perhaps that should have been expected given the significance of the event being covered. I will probably come back to iron a few things out eventually, but I’ve been fussing over it for almost THREE months now and it just needs to be let out into the world. And what better day to do that than the start of a new year? Life is beautiful and I hope this year offers you everything you need and more. Please enjoy :-)
> 
> (AO3 was giving me some issues trying to post this, so if anything looks odd let me know!)

Yuuri sighed as the shower spray pounded down across his shoulders and back, relieving more of the tension that lingered in his muscles. He wanted very much to lay down on the stone tiles and stay there until every surface of the room was dripping in a humid spice scented haze. Instead, he resigned himself to a quick rinse to rid himself of the chlorine-like smell from the rink locker room showers and the general bustle of the day.

So much of the day had passed at top speed that Yuuri sometimes felt like he was moving through a waking dream. It was the little things, like stopping to a picture with an aspiring skater in the hotel lobby or watching his skates slide over the World Championships logo in the center of the rink, that pulled him out of autopilot mode and made everything feel more real. 

Even still, Yuuri felt like he needed one last pinch to convince himself. 

He twisted the knobs and reached for one of the fresh towels. He ran it quickly over his body as he padded back out into the main room of the hotel suite. Victor’s skating bag was leaning against Yuuri’s by the desk. Their costumes hung together in the hall closet.

He had been catching glimpses of his idol - his competitor, his friend, his mentor, his partner - throughout the day. Flashes of Victor’s red and white track suit, the silver of his hair, the gold reflects of his blades. Each time, it made him smile. It made the excited energy pulse just a bit stronger through his body.

Yuuri knew he didn’t need Victor to validate his presence at Worlds - he had earned his place on his own. But so much of his excitement and eagerness to make it there had been so tangled up with the burning desire to skate with and compete against his friend that he felt like he wouldn’t be completely grounded until they touched.

The sleeve of one of Victor’s sweaters was stretched between their suitcases at the foot of the bed. Yuuri grabbed it and pulled it over his head, slipped his arms through the sleeves. He bunched up the neckline and brought it to his nose, remembering how he had practically lived in this particular sweater over the holidays.

He glanced at the clock as he retrieved his glasses from the nightstand. There was still an hour left of Victor’s last fan meet and greet, which would likely last a bit longer than that because it was Victor and Victor was great with his fans - he would get through all of them, knowing very well that many had stood in line between his sessions just for the chance to say ‘hello’ to their world champion.

Yuuri’s eyes flitted between the bright green binding of his kinesiology text book in his luggage and the sheets of the bed where the late afternoon light was pouring in through the large floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows, casting them in a divine warm glow. After a brief moment of consideration, he grabbed some pants and closed the suitcase, zipping it up tight. He slipped into the pants and collapsed back onto the cool cotton.

It had been a long day.

Costume alterations, breakfast, check-ins, blade sharpening, sound check, warm-up, practice, cool down, a quick shower in the locker room to freshen up, getting winked at by Chris, interviews, lunch, browsing the merchandise booths, more interviews, picking up his costume, a meet and greet, hiding in a storage closet so he could have more than a few minutes to himself…

It had been a _very_ long day.

Yuuri sprawled his body out wide like a starfish, each limb reaching for a corner of the bed, as he stared up at the white ceiling. He would rest his eyes for a few minutes, he decided. Then he would get up and do some reading for school until Victor got back. 

The music for his short program echoed in his head as he closed his eyes. It had filled the arena nicely during the sound check, as if it had been scored for that particular space. The peaks of the crescendos were powerful and the soft moments cut through the air with a delicacy that begged the listener to lean forward in their seat, drawing them even closer to the moments he would be creating on the ice.

It would be the twelfth song that the audience would hear tomorrow, for the men’s singles competition at least. 

_Would they remember it?_ he wondered as he started to drift off, head growing heavier and heavier agains the down pillow. _Would they remember him?_

With little protest, he allowed himself a few more minutes of rest. Then a few more, until it was no longer a choice in his conscious mind. 

He dreamed about Vicchan and Hasetsu as he slept.

Seconds, or maybe hours later (it was hard to say), Yuuri gradually became aware of something touching the back of his neck. It wasn’t the wet press of Vicchan’s nose, and the humming from above him was deeper than his dog’s whine. He let out a sleepy groan and scrunched up his face as the fingers pressed more firmly into his scalp. A whisper came from above him, and though it was too soon after sleep to understand the words, he did recognize the voice.

Yuuri let his eyes flutter open and closed as they adjusted to the light. His arm was draped around one of Victor’s legs, pulling it tight to his torso like a body pillow, and his nose was pressed into the a strip of exposed skin right above above the tied drawstring of his lounge pants. He could feel the warmth of skin under his cheek where Victor’s shirt had ridden up. He couldn’t stop the blush as it rose into his cheeks - of course his body would be drawn to Victor like a magnet. Even in sleep it found some way to stitch them together.

He turned his head and smiled up at the slightly blurry face above him. 

“Hello, my sleeping beauty,” Victor teased in a soft voice as his fingers resumed their previous activity. 

“Feels good,” Yuuri murmured as he stretched his limbs out a bit - one of his arms had fallen asleep beneath him and he winced as the little prickles danced under his skin. 

Victor laughed and Yuuri could imagine his face - a quirky half smile with wide blue eyes, half covered by silver fringe, staring down at him in a way that made Yuuri’s heart flip. This was it. Here they were - together. Tomorrow, they would both be skating on the same ice. 

Yuuri smiled and pressed his lips against Victor’s stomach, laughing when it growled in response.

“Room service?” he smirked, as he mustered enough bodily awareness to pull himself up to sit on the bed.

“In a minute,” Victor said as he traced his fingertips traced along Yuuri’s cheek, gently coaxing him to lean forward. 

Yuuri couldn’t help but match Victor’s soft smile with one of his own as their foreheads pressed together. He teased his nose along Victor’s, hovering his lips just out of reach. He was amazed at times that, even after a year, any one of their kisses could still feel like their first. Sometimes he felt like he would never understand how this could possibly be his life. Surely, it was too good for him.

He could feel Victor’s impatience with his teasing grow as the hand at the base of his neck unconsciously increased it’s pressure. Yuuri savored the little sigh that escaped Victor’s lips when he finally gave in and touched them together, felt it pass through his lungs as he placed a palm upon Victor's chest, an echo of the piece inside of himself that always clicked back into place during their first hello’s. 

He wondered if Victor felt the same things he did when they reunited. For Yuuri, it was an instantaneous wash of relief. His lungs took in just a bit more air, his bones sighed as his muscles relaxed, finally letting go of that ever present tension, that nagging unease. His ears stopped straining for sounds he couldn’t hear because he could hear them now - the sound of Victor’s breathing as it rumbled in his chest, the true sound of Victor’s voice - it was irritating that it was always off just slightly on the phone or video calls. 

Yuuri knew that he would have to go through those first few horrible days of separation all over again after this week, endure the hours when sometimes it felt like he was being ripped in two for missing Victor. But that was a problem for later, and he didn’t want either of them thinking about it now as they tangled themselves together in kisses and caresses. 

“Been waiting to do that all day,” Victor murmured, separating their lips for only as long as necessary. “Ever since I saw you practicing those lay back spins.”

“Y-you were there?” Yuuri stuttered as he shifted to lay fully on the bed. “You should have said - “ the rest of his words were kissed away.

Victor hummed as he settled their torsos together. “You looked amazing, so focused.” He threaded his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. “Didn’t want to distract you.”

Yuuri softened his pout into a smile. It wouldn’t be fair to be mad at Victor when he himself had lingered in the back of the arena during Victor’s practice for the exact same reason. (Also, he hadn’t trusted himself not to thrust a pen and program into Victor’s hands. But no one needed to know that.) 

“I watched you a bit too,” Yuuri finally admitted, gazing up into those wide blue eyes as he remembered the way Victor’s body had moved through the quad flips and choreographic sequences - Yuuri’s favorite from his free program.

“I know,” Victor smirked, dipping down again to nip at Yuuri’s bottom lip. “I got in trouble for showing off.”

“Wha-“

“Mmm later,” Victor hummed against him. 

Yuuri was quick to agree. The weight of Victor’s chest against his was a very welcome distraction from his stirring nerves, the long heated kisses even more so. They had started off lazy and slow, but Yuuri could feel his desire simmering in his gut, winding tighter and tighter with each gentle tug of Victor’s fingers in his hair. 

He would normally have felt embarrassed for wanting, for _needing,_ Victor like this so soon after being reunited, but his doubts faded when Victor’s hips ground down against his. 

“S-sorry,” Victor panted at Yuuri’s sudden moan. “I’ve been missing you a lot.”

Yuuri smiled at the light flush in Victor’s cheeks. “Me too,” he said, lifting his head to kiss along Victor’s neck as his hands traveled further, kneading along his spine. He smirked in satisfaction at the gasp he drew from Victor as his hands slipped teasingly below the waistband of his pants, pulling their hips together again. God, Yuuri had missed those sounds - Victor was always so much quieter, more in control, over Skype. They both were.

“Wh-what do you want, zolotse?” Victor asked, fingers tightening along Yuuri’s hip. His eyes were dark, cheeks flushed.

He gently coaxed Victor’s shirt over his head and pushed firmly at the center of his chest. “Lay down,” he whispered, rolling them over and starting a trail of kisses down Victor’s chest.

xXx

They eventually managed to make the call down to the kitchens, a decision Yuuri much regretted when the service knock came at the door. “Get dressed and clear off the bar,” Victor murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’ll get the food.”

They sat side by side at the little kitchenette with their knees and elbows knocking together as they chatted between bites. Yuuri warned Victor that Minako had shown up with large banners for each of them, or at least that was what she had implied when they had met up for lunch earlier. Victor told him all about his fan meet up and the ISU charity calendar photoshoot - all proceeds were going to a network of animal shelters that year, which was definitely the only reason Yuuri had immediately reserved a copy. The fact that April featured Victor laying nose to nose with a poodle wearing his GPF gold was just a happy coincidence.

“Nervous?” Victor asked, putting down his own fork.

Yuuri shrugged in honest, finally stabbing into the poor vegetable he had been chasing around with his fork for the past several minutes. They all knew he wasn’t going to eat it. “It’s better than usual, surprisingly.”

“How so?” Victor asked as he gathered their plates to put back outside. 

Yuuri slid off of the stool to help. It had taken him a while to sort out his expectations and feelings leading into this week, but he was finally in a place where he felt prepared, both physically and mentally. He knew what he wanted to achieve this week, more still he knew that he _could_ achieve it, he explained to Victor as they got ready for bed. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but I am so, so proud of you,” Victor said as he pulled Yuuri’s back flush with his chest under the covers. 

Yuuri blushed as he tangled their feet together. Minako had said it when he and Celestino had met her for lunch. Mari and his parents had said it in a voicemail they had left while he was at practice (Vicchan barked happily in the background). Yuuko and Takeshi had said it too, in their own teasing way. 

Yuuri himself had even said it, his last thoughts before going to bed the previous night.

“I might need some reminding,” he said, twisting his head to kiss the corner of Victor’s mouth. “And maybe a distraction or two.”

“I have some ideas on that.” Victor chuckled as he squeezed Yuuri more tightly.

“I can’t wait to watch you skate tomorrow,” Yuuri murmured into the silence. _‘To watch you win, to watch your eyes light up when your dream comes true again,’_ he added in his mind. 

Victor stole a quick kiss from his lips - _‘Me too’_ the gesture said.

Twelfth.

Yuuri would be the twelfth male figure skater to take the ice tomorrow afternoon - the last skater to take the ice for Group Two. Eighteen performances later and it would be Chris’s turn. Three performances after that would be Victor’s. He was ranked second in the World - probably first next year as the pool of eligible competitions scores shifted away from including the season he spent injured, Yuuri mused. 

And where would Yuuri be then?

Their careers were so fleeting compared to most. The sport was demanding and retirement - forced or voluntary - could happen at any moment. The wrong speed moving into a jump or a bad landing coming out of one could end or derail a career at any moment. Yuuri wanted to give this sport his everything while he could.

xXx

 

 **Reigning World Champion Victor Nikiforov of Russia moved to his feet following an entirely unexpected performance by Japan’s Yuuri Katsuki**  
_"No one could possibly look away,”_ Victor Nikiforov of Russia, defending World Champion of men’s figure skating said when asked about his surprising appearance at Yuuri Katsuki’s short program performance. Skater Nikiforov is currently in first place - 10 points ahead of second place Christophe Giacometti (Switzerland) and nearly 30 points ahead of Katsuki.

 

 **Katsuki sets personal best in men’s short program**  
Yuuri Katsuki of Japan finishes the day in tenth place setting a new personal record in the men’s short program. A top ten finish would allow Japan to send two male figure skaters to compete in the 2014 World Championships, which has not happened since 2002.

 

** Sports picture of the day: ** _Yuuri Katsuki’s biellmann spin defies the laws of human anatomy._

 

 **Japan represented in the top ten across the board at the World Championship of Figure skating**  
The 2012-2013 team from Japan is the strongest seen in years at the conclusion of the World Championship short programs. Is it too early to declare Japan a key player for the first ever Team Skating event at the upcoming 2014 Winter Olympic Games?

 

Yuuri slipped his phone back into his pocket, determined not to open his internet browser again until it was reasonable that he wouldn’t run across any headlines with his name in them. He knew that reporters were supposed to write glamorous and nail-biting re-caps of the performances to keep viewers engaged and get clicks for their network and advertisers. 

The problem was, they also kept Yuuri on the edge of his seat and biting his own nails about his own performance he had to put on the next day. Logically, he knew what stakes had been riding on the outcome of Worlds - every competitor did - but he still didn’t like being reminded of them. 

Yuuri had a feeling that his short had gone well just from the burn he had felt in his lungs and thighs when he melted into his final pose. And then the crowd had exploded around him into sounds he had never heard before, shaking him to his core. He had cried when his score finally showed up on the screen in the kiss and cry - 75.94. Eleven points higher than he had received at nationals.

He startled out of his thoughts at the heat of Victor’s lips pressing just above his ear. “Eat, solnyshko,” he murmured above the chatter around them.

“I am,” Yuuri blushed, reaching for his fork.

Victor chuckled and knocked their knees together before joining back into a discussion Chris and another skater (or perhaps ice dancer?) were having about some topic Yuuri couldn’t quite follow. He allowed himself a few moments to appreciate the smile on Victor’s lips before stabbing at some broccoli. 

This evening’s dinner was shaping up to be so much different from the last one they had shared after a competition. It had dawned on Yuuri just as Victor took his opening pose, that today was the first time he had seen Victor compete in person since the 2011 Grand Prix Final in Fukuoka - the night Victor had shattered his heart with words of retirement. Thinking about that night always brought a bad taste Yuuri’s mouth, but he seemed to be powerless to stop the memories from resurfacing. 

Victor was so incredibly different today. His smile was warm and his eyes were constantly shining. And the way that he had skated earlier that day… Yuuri knew how much this program meant to Victor - it was the same one he had produced for the previous season, but ultimately wasn’t able to skate thanks to his skating federation.

A shiver worked it’s way up his spine. Last year’s Victor had been a lifeless drone in comparison. He had no idea why ESPN had chosen to highlight his spins when some of the ways that Victor had moved on that ice were equally inhuman. They had made Yuuri _feel_ things.

A thirty-point gap, he reminded himself as he forced his teeth to gnash on the luke-warm broccoli. He had put on what was arguably the best short program of his career and Victor still managed to score that much above him. Yuuri forced the thought from his head, reminding himself firmly of what he had decided last month - he was going to try to compete against himself for a while. It had worked today, hadn’t it?

But what about the expectations of those other than himself?

Eventually, their plates were cleaned and the bills were settled. It was time to head back and get ready for the next day. As much as he hated it, Yuuri started to feel the nerves churn in his gut. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle - the feeling was nothing close to the destruction that rampaged his mind before Skate America - but he still wished they would have held out just a bit longer. 

Victor didn’t comment on his silence or the persistent few inches of space Yuuri had kept between them during the walk back to the hotel until they made it back to their room.

“Nervous?” Victor asked as he eased the jacket off of Yuuri’s shoulders. 

Yuuri nodded as he made his way into the main room. “Nothing unexpected…I just…” 

“You want to skate, don’t you?” Victor asked. 

Yuuri felt the mattress shift next to him when Victor joined him. He flexed his toes inside of his socks, feeling that familiar itch of the absence of his skates.

“Or dance,” Yuuri sighed, drawing his knees up tight to his chest and keeping a careful inch of space between their bodies.

“We could move the furniture?” Victor suggested.

He glanced over to see his smile mirrored on Victor’s face. It was shy and sweet, curving into his pink cheeks. It was a callback to St. Petersburg, the night that they had celebrated the eventuality of today. He wanted desperately to be able to find comfort in Victor’s arms as he had earlier that morning, to dance away his stress wrapped up tight and safe. But the idea felt crowded somehow in his current state of mind. 

In the end, Yuuri bit his lip and shook his head. “No. No really it’s…I think I just need to be…”

The sentence died on his tongue, struggling to find the right words to tell Victor that he just wanted to be alone without sounding sharp or unkind. Yuuri usually just walked away or made an excuse to go back to his own room at other competitions when he needed to get away from his coach or family, but it was different with Victor. For one thing, there was nowhere for him to run to. For another…

He looked up at Victor with a soft smile. For another, he knew he wanted to curl back up into those arms again before the night was over. Just not now. 

He watched as Victor’s eyes flickered over to their suitcases. Victor bit his lip as he stared for a long hard moment. He was adorable when he was lost in thought, Yuuri thought. 

“I might have an idea,” he said, getting up from the bed. Yuuri watched as he pulled a brown paper bag and a glass jar from one of the zipper compartments. “I was planning on saving this for after the free program, or maybe the banquet, but it looks like maybe you need it now.”

“Victor…” Yuuri started, but the sparkle in Victor’s eyes told him that it was not the time to protest. 

Victor walked into the bathroom and after a moment Yuuri could hear the sounds of running water. After a dozen or so minutes had passed, Victor finally came back out into the main room. 

“I drew a bath,” he said, running a hand through his hair, still keeping his distance. “The um, the staff said that the walls of the tub are heated - maybe it will be kind of like the onsen?”

Yuuri smiled as he stood, his face warming a bit as he padded over to the bathroom. The lights were off, the room illuminated by several candles placed on the vanity. The smell of vanilla and lavender reached his nose as he drew closer to the standing water in the tub. He skimmed his fingers across the surface with a sigh. It wasn’t nearly as hot as the onsen, but it was tempting and perfect all the same.

He turned back to Victor, intending to thank him, but stopped short when he saw Victor standing there with his shoes on, key card in hand. “Where are you going?”

“To bother Yakov about the free skate. I’d have to go eventually, and this way you can have some time to yourself.”

The tight knot between Yuuri’s shoulder blades slipped free with his next round of breath. “Um…thank you, Victor. This is…”

Victor smiled as he moved to pull the door closed to keep more of the heat in. “I’ll be back later. Yuuri, your skating today was…” he let out a breathy laugh with a shake of his head. “Anyway, try to relax, solnyshko. You’ve earned it.”

Yuuri stripped down and slid into the tub after he heard the door to the suite click shut. He exhaled as the silence settled around him, as the warmth from the water leaked into his muscles. Not wanting to waste a moment of his solitude, Yuuri set to work sorting through his thoughts. He needed to get himself back into the solid mindset that he arrived here with.

It was always tricky to deal with his feelings when his nerves were so general in nature like this. He could sense little bits of everything feeding into them - the general anticipation of competition, his dislike of inevitable media spotlights, pressure to win, living up to the expectations of others - his own expectations.

In the final moments before his music started at Skate America, he had been itching to get off the ice as soon as possible. He had felt small in his skates, like an imposter. He had felt guilty for wasting everyone’s time, for wasting a spot in the prestigious Grand Prix series - a spot that he was only granted thanks to some persuasion by the JSF. That fact in particular had cycled viciously through his head during his programs, tormenting and loud, where as before he had worn it like a badge of pride - someone believed in him enough to fight for him. It was amazing how quickly strong emotions could swing under the right circumstances.

Today when he took the ice for the short program, Yuuri had been feeling closer to how he felt on the ice at the NHK Trophy, his personal favorite performances of the season. At Worlds, Yuuri just wanted to skate, to enjoy himself, to show off the hundreds of hours he had spent working to get there, to that exact moment. It still stung to know that he could give the skate of a lifetime and not make it onto the podium, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. He had more realistic expectations of himself now than he had at Four Continents. 

Skating his programs to the best of his ability was achievable - he knew them, helped to shape them over time - they were his. Making Minako cry when he reached the peak in his short program was also something he could do (and did). Proving to himself (again) that he could do this, that everything up until now was worth it…

Invisibility.

 

Self-love.

 

Perseverance.

 

Victory.

 

Those were the wishes he had made with his short program at previous events of the season. But today, when Yuuri had stuck his toe pick into the center of the World Championships logo on the ice, he did it with the intention of seeing what would happen if he stopped wishing for things with his short program and just simply skated with the music.

He smiled and curled his toes beneath the water, reveling in the stretch of skin over the tops of his battered feet. The result of that decision had exceeded even his wildest expectations.

 _Hold on to that feeling,_ he reminded himself as he dragged his fingers along the surface of the water. _Just because you aren’t going to leave with the gold medal doesn’t mean you failed._

Yuuri exhaled and felt a few more knots release. He stretched out and really pressed his skin into the walls of the soaker tub, relishing the grounding feeling, the warmth surrounding him. He leaned one of his cheeks on the cushion behind his head, eyes softly focused on the white door with it’s silver handle. 

Eventually, they started to flutter shut.

xXx

The creak of the bathroom door startled Yuuri from his half sleep. “Hey. I just wanted to let you know I’m back,” Victor’s voice came, a soft and gentle echo in the tiled room. 

“Mmm,” Yuuri hummed, stretching lightly.

“You really shouldn’t fall asleep in the tub you know,” Victor chastised, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Wasn’t sleeping,” Yuuri protested. 

Victor tilted his head lightly. “Mmmhmmm. Well, I’m going to read for a bit and come check on you later - make sure you stay not sleeping.”

“You can stay, if you want,” Yuuri offered, not quite wanting to be alone any longer. 

Victor only hesitated for a moment before closing the door with a soft click, trapping the heat in with them. “Feeling better?” he asked, kneeling down beside the tub.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Victor smiled. “I know it wasn’t the same as skating, but…”

Yuuri shook his head. “No - I know I can’t always skate or dance my feelings away. So um, thank you for offering something else. Sometimes I just need some space.”

“It’s okay, we all deal with nerves differently,” Victor nodded. “Thank you for telling me what you needed.”

The candle lights were pulsing just behind him, bathing him in a blurry glow that made Yuuri’s heart swell and a smile tug at his lips. He wasn’t sure if he would ever not be surprised by Victor’s beauty. It ran deeper than his strong, perfect body and the shapes it made. It extended beyond the glimmer in his eyes and the warmth in his smile - it was the way he hummed in the early mornings, the tone in his voice when he talked about Makkachin, the way he made Yuuri feel comfortable in his own skin and faults. 

He extended his hand to sweep Victor’s bangs from his eyes. Maybe ‘love’ was the best word he would ever be able to find to describe this feeling. When Yuuri thought about the word ‘love’ in the past, he associated it with feelings that he had always had for Victor, even when he was younger. But this - right now - was so much different, so much bigger than that, and it was so frustrating that there wasn’t a word for it. He had spent many nights laying awake at night thinking about it, fishing around for the perfect word, always coming up empty. Perhaps it was the difference between loving someone and being _in love_ with someone. 

But how do you even tell someone that? Yuuri wondered as his thumb traced along Victor’s cheek bone, palm cupping the warm flesh of his cheek. 

_I love you._

_Victor, I’m in love with you._

_I_ think _I’m in love with you._

_Victor, I don’t know if there is a word for the feelings I have for you, but I’ve decided to call them love._

He felt the hot breath of Victor’s laughter as it tickled down his forearm, still damp from the bath. His heart sputtered in his chest and it took him several long seconds to convince himself that he had not in fact said those things out loud. 

“Oh solnyskho, zvezda moy,” Victor breathed before tilting his head to place a kiss to Yuuri’s wrist. “Sometimes I look at you and wonder where you are.”

“I’m right here,” Yuuri blushed. 

Victor laughed again and dropped Yuuri’s hand as he re-situated himself on the floor with a slight wince. “Sorry, this mat is very thin.”

“You can join me, if you want. It’s ummm…the heating function is working.”

He noticed the hesitation in Victor’s face, his eyes carefully considering yet not convinced. Yuuri scooted forward to emphasize the sincerity of his invitation. “There’s plenty of space now,” he added, hoping that Victor knew he didn’t just mean physical space in the tub but that Yuuri had cleared enough mental space for him as well. 

“Alright,” Victor conceded with a soft smile.

Yuuri busied himself adjusting the cushions to avoid staring as Victor stripped bare. Ripples ran across the surface of the water as Victor stepped in behind him. “Ah!” he hissed as he settled in against the back of the tub. “This _is_ very nice.”

They spent a few moments adjusting into each other’s space, negotiating their legs and torsos before Yuuri allowed himself to melt back against Victor’s chest, coaxed there by tender touches along his shoulders. He pressed his forehead into the side of Victor’s neck as their fingers laced together below the water’s surface.

“My mother called when I was on my way back,” Victor started, his voice a low comforting rumble against Yuuri’s cheek. “Makkachin had herself a little adventure today at the dog park.”

Yuuri smiled. “Oh?”

“I think I told you that the weather has been having a hard time making up its mind on whether or not it’s ready to move on from winter?” 

“Same in Detroit.”

“Well, there’s a corner of the park where all of the snow from the walking paths gets dumped by the plows. The kids love it - it’s perfect for making igloos,” Victor said, shifting slightly under him. “It’s been slowly melting away into large puddles in the park, but with the cold snap over the last few days…well, Makkachin got to try her hand - paw - at ice skating.”

“Was she any good?”

“Mmm well it was pretty rough even for natural ice, so it wasn’t too tricky for her, but she did have a good time chasing down her toys on it.” 

“Ahh, more of a hockey player than a figure skater then?”

Victor hummed in amusement. “Perhaps - my mother promised to send me some video. That should help us decide what to do with our little protege. Perhaps she and Vicchan can pair skate.”

Yuuri laughed out loud at the image. “Mmmm, Vicchan likes to go off script with his choreography and probably wouldn’t be a reliable lifter.”

They lapsed back into their comfortable silence. A few of the tea candles had gone out, consumed by the vanilla scented wax. They should get out soon, Yuuri knew, the pads of his fingers had shown signs of puckering even before Victor had joined him and it was surely getting late. 

Yuuri raised his head and pressed his lips to the corner of Victor’s mouth. Victor shifted, offering up the fullness of his own for Yuuri to take. They moved across one another, unhurried, as another wave of bone-deep calm washed over him. He wondered if Victor felt it too, that feeling of grounding. 

_(I love you.)_ Yuuri shivered as he stuffed the little secret back into his heart.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Yuuri asked instead, pulling away slightly.

Victor studied him for a moment with a soft sparkle in his eye. “Good, excited. Ready.”

“So not nervous?”

Victor kissed the tip of his nose. “Of course I am, Yuuri. The nerves…those little jitters and twists of the stomach are there for me, too.” Yuuri scowled as Victor pinched his side for emphasis. “I’ve just…trained myself to focus in on the other feelings. Being nervous isn’t bad - it reminds you how much you care about what you’re doing.”

“O-oh,” Yuuri said, his jaw just a little loose. “I guess I never…thought about it like that before.”

“I never did either, until Yakov caught me grinding my teeth so tightly during practice that I was about ready to chip a tooth. He ended our session early and took me to the park to watch the bridge rise and fall over the shipping canal and talked me through my feelings. I think I was thirteen or fourteen the first time maybe? But we’ve done it many times since then - usually once per season still - on top of our little chats on the eve of performances.”

Yuuri let the information soak in, but couldn’t help be a little bit jealous of the relationship between Victor and his coach. Celestino tried, but it still sometimes felt like there was a disconnect. He had always chalked it up to the fact that he had bounced around to quite a few coaches over his career, never quite settling in with any of them long term. But it was different at this point in his life now - he would likely have Celestino as his coach for the rest of his professional career, right? Perhaps he should allow himself to be a bit more open…

“Doesn’t make a loss any easier though,” Victor said. 

Yuuri hummed. “You’re going to win - I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into your free program,” he quickly assured. “They say you’re ‘untouchable’.”

Victor went rigid under him, setting off alarm bells in Yuuri’s head. “I - I - “ he stammered, trying to find words. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Victor sighed, pressing his forehead to the back of Yuuri’s head. “That’s just a very lonely word.”

Yuuri squeezed their fingers together. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know. I know, solnyshko. Besides, I have you to challenge me now, right?” Victor teased. 

“Well, maybe not this time around - “

“Why not? Anything can happen out on that ice, Yuuri. Skate like it.”

Victor’s words inspired a shiver to crawl up his spine. Yuuri clenched his free hand into a fist a top Victor’s leg. “I will,” he promised.

“Come on, we should get out,” Victor sighed, planting a kiss to Yuuri’s temple. 

Yuuri didn’t want to move - the heat of the water and the touch of skin on skin was just too sweet. “Victor, I…” _(I love you.)_

“Hmmm?” Victor asked as he coaxed them both to stand. 

Yuuri sighed as he reached over to grab them each a towel. “It’s nothing. I just…” _(I love you.)_ “I don’t think you’re untouchable.”

Victor shot him a lopsided smile and Yuuri could see the hint of a question in his eyes, but he simply reached out and accepted the towel. Yuuri let the silence continue, afraid of what he might say if he allowed his mouth to open again.

Slowly, they dried off and slipped under the soothing heft of the comforter, holding each other close enough to share a final goodnight kiss before finally closing their eyes for the night. Despite the events of the day and the soothing calm of the bath, Yuuri found himself wide awake. His heart pounded against his ribs for the next half an hour. It was vibrating his soul so strongly, it was surprising Victor couldn’t feel it.

Another century of seconds passed as Yuuri’s heart crept higher and higher up his throat, until…

“I love you.” 

The words spilled across his lips against the skin of Victor’s neck, diffusing into the darkness of the room. He felt his breath hitch in his chest, felt his arms tighten around Victor’s still form. Several moments passed in silence.

“I’m so in love with you, Victor,” he allowed himself to say again, impossibly softer than the last time. But it felt so good to say out loud, even if it was still a secret. Yuuri closed his eyes, finally ready for sleep.

But then Victor was rolling over him, blue eyes staring into brown with burning intensity. “Yuuri,” Victor breathed, moving their lips together. “I love you too, so much.”

Yuuri’s heart went supernova at the sound of Victor’s voice and the shape of his lips as he said those words. Maybe, just maybe, they were the right words all along. Maybe it was the way Victor said them that gave them their infinite meaning.

xXx

The sun rays felt warm as they danced across Yuuri’s face the next morning as he dragged his freed fingers through Victor’s hair, focused solely on the heavy hot weight of his boyfriend’s cheek against his chest and the tangle of their bare legs beneath the white cotton sheets. 

“Good morning,” Victor said eventually, voice a mix of sleepy rasp and leftover raw passion from the night before. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Yuuri said, angling his head to kiss the tip of Victor’s nose.

After a few moments, Victor rolled away from him to grab his phone. “Eight more hours,” he sighed. 

“Eleven,” Yuuri quickly amended, adjusting Victor’s estimate to account for the first few waves of skaters who would take the ice before them.

Their faces broke out into matching smiles when their gazes connected. “At least the company is good, if I have to wait,” Victor said as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. 

The morning passed slowly and quietly. Both Yakov and Celestino called to make sure their skaters were awake enough to confirm their schedule for the day. They ate breakfast shoulder to shoulder at the bar stools of the suite’s kitchenette, poking each other in the ribs each time they caught the other glancing at the time. Yuuri’s sides were very sore by the time it was time to start getting ready.

Yuuri conceded to the zipper with a sigh, his eyes flicking immediately towards the thin stream of light coming from the bathroom where Victor was getting ready. He paused with his hand on the door, watching as Victor reached for the thin golden tube sitting on the vanity. He stood there, captivated by the quick and careful micro movements of Victor’s hand as he worked the brush delicately across his eye.

“Not all of us were gifted with mile-high jet black lashes,” Victor said with a wink.

Yuuri fully entered bathroom, blushing after having been caught intruding on such an intimate feeling moment. Because who else had ever seen this? It was only him, only Yuuri, who was gifted the opportunity to see Victor like this as he readied himself for the ice. He waited patiently as Victor finished the other eye, close enough now to smell the faintly fruity-floral scent of the mascara. 

“Can you help me with the zip?” Yuuri asked when he was finished. 

Victor smiled as he stepped behind him and Yuuri shivered as those long fingers ghosted up the length of his spine, pinching the fabric together for the zipper to run smoothly up. 

“Thanks,” he murmured as Victor placed a kiss to the nape of his neck. 

Victor came around and studied him for a moment before grabbing a skinny black pencil from his bag. Yuuri nodded as Victor gently placed his hand against his face, fingers pulling gently at the skin around his eyes. 

“Look up for me, lyubov moy.”

Yuuri smiled at the unfamiliar phrase. “What does -“

“Up,” Victor urged softly. “Look up, my love.”

It was hard to follow the instruction as it meant looking away from Victor’s eyes, which were somehow even more blue and defined now, framed by carefully separated lashes. But he did anyway, bracing himself for the light tickling along the rims of his eyes as the soft pencil was worked into his skin. Victor murmured soft apologies as he caught the little tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes. 

“Perfect,” Victor said, leaning down to capture Yuuri’s lips in a soft kiss. “You’re going to look absolutely beautiful out there today, Yuuri, and I can’t wait to see it. Your free program this year is one of my favorites.”

“Which one is? Your favorite, I mean,” Yuuri asked, swiping Victor’s pot of lip balm from the counter top.

He barely got the lid twisted off when Victor answered: “Starlight.”

Yuuri paused, catching Victor’s eye in the mirror. “You called it your Starlight program, the one that you took to Junior Worlds for the first time, right?”

Yuuri nodded quickly as he rubbed the balm between his lips. “Y-yeah. Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_ and Saint-Seans’ _The Swan_.”

“I remember being so jealous when you told me that you were doing _The Swan_. I cannot even tell you how many times I had begged Yakov to let me skate to it as a junior. _‘You don’t have the patience, Vitya’_ he would growl back at me,” Victor shook his head in a laugh, reaching over for a tube of hair product. “I had something choreographed and everything…”

“You should do it now - no one ever skates to it,” Yuuri encouraged, watching the small sparks flicker across those blue irises. He wanted to know how a younger Victor had chosen to interpret the song.

Victor paused and shot him a look. “There’s a reason for that, zolotse. If you don’t believe me, go back and watch your performance from Worlds.”

Yuuri watched the blush bloom across his own cheeks in the mirror. “I…I fell on two of my jumps and - “

“And you danced in a way that captivated the entire audience,” Victor cut in, draping his arms low across Yuuri’s waist. “It’s all anyone can think about when they hear that piece."

Yuuri swallowed around the silence as Victor tipped his chin back so that their lips could meet. He remembered that performance quite vividly, though it wasn’t a memory he liked to dwell on. It had been one of the most passionate performances he had given, but it had also been a bit sloppy, as evidenced by the two botched jumps and failed connection between his combination spin element. But that wasn’t what made it such a bittersweet memory.

“You called me before,” he remembered. “You said you weren’t sure if you would be healed enough for Worlds, so you asked me to dance for you - just in case.”

“Would it be incredibly selfish of me to ask you to dance for me today?” Victor asked with a light smile.

“Yes,” Yuuri teased with a smile. “But it won’t stop either of us from doing it anyway.”

 _And this time I won’t mess it up,_ he thought to himself.

xXx

Yuuri made his way down the dim corridor, surrounded by the echoing cheers of the crowd as another competitor finished. Just two left before him now. Celestino was talking quietly next to him, but Yuuri couldn’t focus in on what words were being said. He checked in with the official standing near the mouth of the tunnel and went to sit on the small bench to adjust his laces one last time. 

Celestino clapped a hand to his shoulder, causing Yuuri to jump. “I’ll see you out there,” he said as an odd expression crossed his face. 

“Where - “

His question was answered by another shoulder squeeze - this time by a more gentle hand. “Sorry to make your coach run,” said a low voice.

Yuuri let out a shaky breath as he turned to see Victor smiling at him, warm and gentle, a flickering in his eyes that spoke of excitement. “I didn’t think Yakov would let you come - there’s not much time before your skate,” Yuuri said as Victor hummed and sank to his knees between his legs.

He watched as Victor’s hands worked in sure, firm movements over his skates, checking along the way to make sure they were to Yuuri’s liking. “You should probably replace these soon, solnyshko."

“That is not helping my nerves, you know,” Yuuri groaned, the crowd roaring again around them. The skater must have finished - he would be due on the ice very soon. 

“Noted,” Victor chuckled, pulling their faces closer. “I was actually hoping to do the opposite by coming here to wish you good luck in private.”

Yuuri blushed. “So are you going to? Wish me good luck that is? I kind of have a thing to do, you know.”

He watched in triumph as Victor’s eyes widened in surprise. “I had a whole speech prepared, but…” he teased as they walked towards the mouth of the tunnel, “you don’t need my good luck wishes. Just do the skating you like best and you’ll shine brighter than any gold medal I’ve ever seen.”

He felt the warm heat of Victor’s hands as they covered his, soothing the incessant tremors. Yuuri stepped closer to press their foreheads together, his eyes fluttering closed as he exhaled against Victor’s cheek. “You are going to be wonderful, Yuuri.”

“I know,” Yuuri replied squeezing their hands more tightly. “I’ve worked so hard and I can do this.”

“Can I kiss you?” Victor whispered. Yuuri bit back a laugh. “It’s just that the cameras…" he clarified.

“I know - it’s just we probably look like we are kissing already anyway,” Yuuri smiled.

“Maybe I was just giving you a pep talk.” 

“No one gives a pep talk like this, Victor,” Yuuri teased.

“But you kind of love it, right?”

“Yes, yes I do,” Yuuri admitted with a laugh. He loved everything about the man standing in front of him.

He felt a matching burst of air as Victor chuckled against his cheek. And Yuuri leaned in and pressed their lips together. Yuuri closed his eyes when Victor finally returned the kiss, slow and soft, and he chased them for one more when Victor started to pull away. “You should go, solnyshko. I’ll be watching from the closest seat I can get.”

“Come out with me,” Yuuri found himself saying, tugging at Victor’s hand as he took those first few steps towards the ice. He noticed Victor’s hesitation, the way the corner of his bottom lip curled up between his teeth. “Please?”

“Yuuri - this is supposed to be your moment. I…I tend to attract a lot of attention when I walk out onto the floor.”

Yuuri gave his arm a firm tug, knowing full well the risk that he might hear Victor’s name chanted over his own by the crowd. He was their World Champion after all, and Yuuri had not yet earned that privilege. 

But he wanted to. 

He remembered the way the arena in Osaka had erupted into tremor-inducing cheers the moment his name floated through the speakers, so much louder than ever before. Katsuki Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki. Japanese and English. It had reminded him that he was skating on his own turf once again and the people were expecting to see their national champion make them proud once more. He might be training in Detroit now, but he was still _theirs_.

That would not happen here where his name was still unknown on the international stage. Here, he was still one out of thirty-five others, serving as the opening entertainment - the appetizer - before the main event. The ice would be resurfaced one last time before the final group of competitors, and he wanted to make sure he carved his figures so deeply that they lingered until the end of the day, so that even Victor would feel each line under his golden blades and know that Yuuri had put them there for him. For them.

And then he remembered something Victor had said, a memory from their first week together in Detroit forcing it’s way to the forefront of his memory. _‘I want the whole world to see what I just saw. And somehow I managed to convince you to limit yourself to skating.’_

Now, more than ever, Yuuri was ready to shine. “Don’t worry. I’ll make them pay attention to me.”

Yuuri walked confidently, fiercely, out into the lights where Celestino was waiting for him. He finally let go of Victor’s hand to tug down the zipper of his jacket, handing it to Celestino. His skate guards came next, though he shoved those against Victor’s chest. He blushed at the intensity of Victor’s stare as he took the ice. His skin tingled under it, as he recalled the first time he had seen that _look_ and what Victor had said.

_‘Do you know how incredible you are?’_

Yuuri wondered what would happen if he skated like he did. He had danced for Victor that night, too, just as he would now. _Well, maybe not exactly like that night,_ he thought to himself.

His heart raced as he moved around the perimeter of the rink, pumping too much adrenaline through his system for start of his free program. He needed to calm down or his movements would risk being sloppy or tense. Yuuri shook out his shoulders as he drew in a breath - in for six, hold for four, out for six.

Yuuri shook out his arms one final time as he glided toward the center of the ice, counting to six as he inhaled, four as he held, and six again as he exhaled. He tapped his right toe into the ice as he relaxed his arms down by his sides.

The music started, and he let himself _dance,_ let the sounds of his skates tangle up with the clarinet glissando. His strokes were strong and smooth across the surface as he went through his opening choreography, crossing over the other marks left before his. 

Victor’s were there from the open practice yesterday, buried somewhere beneath the thin layers of resurfacing water. As were Chris’s and Georgi’s and so many others - today, yesterday, last week, last year…while all of the markings had been melted or shaved away, the rink would still remember them as a part of its history.

His spin sequence was smooth, his salchow landed. He spilled his body back into an Ina Bauer, engaging his core muscles to ensure a smooth transition into the next sequence. The adrenaline form the backbend pushed him forward through the next jump combination - triple flip, triple toe with raised arms…

Celestino would be shaking his head at that one even though the landing had been solid, Yuuri knew. The raised arm jumps had been a point of silent contention between them fairly early on in their student-coach relationship. 

_‘Your landings are too shaky, Yuuri. Listen - your body is telling you it’s ready to move on. You should let it,’_ Celestino had said a few months into their training.

The ability to move on was a hard learned but necessary skill - this year alone had proved as much for Yuuri. The journey had not left him unchanged, in fact many of the scars ran deep and oozed memories of that cruel voice awakened by the philosophy class last semester. But he had learned how to control it (mostly) and had learned the price of his stubbornness.

That wasn’t to say that he had lost his stubborn streak completely - he still continued practicing the arm-raised jumps in private throughout all of these years. In his mind it was a matter of retraining his body to work with his longer limbs. It felt unnatural at times to cross his arms over his chest - sometimes his arms just wanted to fly. Not to mention how different the jumps looked with the added dimension of raised arms. The movement evoked an emotion deep within him whenever he saw it done, whenever he himself did it…

He wondered if the one he had just landed looked as beautiful as it had felt. 

Yuuri smiled as he slowed his step sequence precisely in time with the ritardando of the score. _I am beautiful, mesmerizing, amazing and free,_ he repeated in his mind.

There was a spit second of deafening silence before the arena filled with cheers, startling Yuuri out of his ending posture. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to fantasize that it had been enough to show the world that Victor Nikiforov was not ‘untouchable’.

His eyes immediately started scanning the first few rows of bleachers as he drew closer to Celestino, searching for that flash of silver, red, and white. A shiver pulsed through him when he locked onto Victor’s blue eyes, smiling and fracturing the skin around them into those little tiny crow’s feet that Yuuri loved so much. 

Victor had been watching him the whole time as Yuuri danced, sitting on the hard bleacher bench in his own free program costume, waiting for his own turn to skate on the same ice Yuuri had just left. His adrenaline was coursing so strongly through his veins that he didn’t doubt the feeling that he could drag his body up and over the guard rails between them.

But his coach was tugging lightly on his elbow in delicate reminder that they still had somewhere to be. ‘Later’ Victor’s lips read, and Yuuri finally started to force his mind and body to settle back down.

xXx

 **[rocktherink]:** But who was that standing with Katsuki and his coach?

 **[squad_axel]:** A second coach maybe? He’s been getting a lot more serious with his programs, it would make sense. 

**[lovesick_pistachio]:** Or maybe it’s a looooovveerrrrr oooOOOOOOOOOoooooooo

 **[saltedshade]:** *rolls eyes* 

**[rocktherink]:** Wait - zoom in at the 1:10 minute mark. Is that who I think it is?

 **[saltedshade]:** *rolls eyes again*

 **[squad_axel]:** Oh! That would make sense — anyone who follows Nikiforov on IG knows they’ve been friends for ages. #friendshipgoals

 **[rocktherink]:** BUT zoom in at 0:30 - Katsuki totally kisses his cheek

 **[lovesick_pistachio]:** I LOVE BEING RIGHT

 **[saltedshade]:** *massive eye roll* 

**[fancydancer]:** y’all need to calm down. Let’s just appreciate the masterpiece that was Katsuki’s skating today - who cares if he and Nikiforov are a thing or not.

 **[saltedshade]:** *mic drop*

 **[lovesick_pistachio]:** …are you human? Do you have a heart? Is it beating? …

 **[lovesick_pistachio]:** #Katsukiforov

 

xXx

Victor’s name was loud on everyone’s lips, drowning out the voice of the announcers as their defending world champion moved along the perimeter of the rink. Only the low grumble of Yakov’s voice next to him was able to cut through to Yuuri’s ears. 

“….should save his energy if he’s going to keep insisting on pushing those quads back to the second half…”

Yuuri covered his growing grin with his fist before Yakov noticed, in case he would be accused of provocation and sent back to the stands. There was a light smile playing at Victor’s lips and eyes as he took his opening pose at the center of the stage. The suspended screens flashed quickly to the current standings before switching to the live feed with a large purple banner: 

**_Victor Nikiforov (24, Russia)_ **  
**_‘Song of Storms’ - choreographed and produced by Victor Nikiforov_ **

Yuuri leaned further into his elbows and pushed his glasses further up his nose as the arena slowly settled into electrified silence. He knew how much this particular program meant to Victor - it was the one he had produced for the previous season, but ultimately wasn’t able to skate thanks to the skating federation’s meddling. It could not have been easy to bring it back for this season after suffering so much torment in having to toss it for something else.

A chime and bass piano chord filled the arena as Victor stepped out of his closed posture. A violin joined, dragging out the first few bars of the theme, building perfectly with his opening movements as they flowed into an effortless quad toe loop before the tempo really started to pick up. 

Yuuri felt his muscles vibrate through the landing and he forced his analytic mind to clear, wanting to get lost in Victor’s artistry. He let his breathing flow along with Victor’s step sequences, let his heart race through his chest with each of Victor’s jumps. He had watched and rewatched this routine so many times that he knew it by heart, but watching it this close in the unique atmosphere of a competition was a completely different experience. It always had been with Victor.

Yuuri could feel the whipping cold winds of the storm brewing under Victor’s blades just as intensely as the sunshine that eventually rose from the ice with his final spin sequence. It burned behind his eyes, the final few raindrops leaking onto his cheeks. A casual spectator might be inclined to think that a final choreographic winding down sequence was all that was left to come, but Yuuri new better. There was still one surprise left in store. 

Victor’s eyes locked onto his from across the ice as he shifted directions with a determined smile. Yuuri was vaguely aware of Yakov’s furious Russian mutterings as his heart started creeping up into his throat. Apparently the casual viewers weren’t the only ones Victor was planning to surprise with his program. The sound of Victor’s blades grew louder and louder before launching into a perfect quad flip, purposefully timed to peak right in front of Yuuri. 

_I love you,_ his heart sang out with each rotation.

He choked on a cheer with the rest of the crowd when the jump landed. To them, it was just a slight change up in Victor’s routine. Only Yuuri and Victor knew the true significance of that jump and it’s placement on the ice. 

Victor was forced to finish a fair bit away from the center of the ice, but Yuuri hardly noticed, because Victor was moving towards him again and Yuuri barely processed in time to fling his arms out over the half-wall to meet Victor’s embrace. It was the moment that had been denied them after Victor’s surprise performance last year, and Yuuri clung to every inch of Victor he could find.

“Yuuri,” he panted, blue eyes shining wet.

“You did it, Victor! I know you did, I can feel it,” Yuuri gasped as he felt the hot tears leaking down the collar of his jacket. He pressed his cheek into the side of Victor’s head, bringing his lips closer to his ear. “I lo- “

“Vitya!” Yakov boomed, “Off the ice.”

xXx

Yuuri congratulated the Spanish bronze medalist and Chris as they made their way off of the ice following the medaling ceremony. 

“Next time, Yuuri,” Chris winked before slipping away.

Yuuri nodded in vague agreement, his eyes still focused on the gold medalist held up on the ice by the president of the ISU. Victor’s laugh rang out again as he thanked the official for the honor once more. Yuuri felt his heart flip as he smiled - two of the three little words were still left unsaid and burning on the tip of his tongue. 

“Commemorative photo?” is what he said instead, voice teasing as he held out his phone to Victor. 

Victor nodded, swooping in to give Yuuri a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get the ice behind us.”

Yuuri traded his phone for Victor’s flowers - it was an unsaid understanding that Victor was the superior selfie-taker of the pair. They leaned in cheek to cheek after agreeing upon an ‘artsy’ angle that allowed them to capture the World’s logo on the ice behind them. 

“Oh wait!” Victor chirped. He lifted the gold medal from his chest, offering it to Yuuri. “Wanna wear it?”

Yuuri felt his eyes widen. “N-no! I mean…”

Victor chuckled. “Okay how about we take it like this.”

Before he even knew it had happened, Victor’s lips were pressing firmly against his. The camera app clicked. “Mmmm we have to post this one, Yuuri.” Victor said, handing the phone back to him. 

Yuuri smiled at the stupid shocked look in his own brown eyes, the blush on both of their cheeks. The kiss itself was hidden by Victor’s gold medal. He opened Instagram and tagged both of them along with ‘#victory’. 

“So,” Victor asked as they made their way back to the locker rooms, “did this live up to your dreams?”

“Yes,” Yuuri laughed. “You?”

Victor flashed him a bright smile as he adjusted his crown of wildflowers. “Better than. I can’t wait for next time.”

Yuuri smiled back at him. The feeling was more than mutual, and he could not wait to see what the next season held for them.

xXx

 **[Phichit, 19:58]** It’s #VICTUURI  
**[Phichit, 19:58]** Come on Yuuri - get your own hashtag right

 

 **[Mitch, 20:00]** YUURI! We are losing our minds over here!! Kevin is crying.  
**[Mitch, 20:01]** Well, more than usual after a few glasses of wine. It’s scaring Phich  
**[Mitch, 20:03]** We were wondering why they were showing your BF’s hot ass on the screen more than yours - how could you not tell us that he was the best?!? Like literally the best  
**[Mitch, 20:03]** OMG BUT WE STILL LOVE YOU TOO! YOU’RE THE BEST!  
**[Mitch, 20:05]** So….you’re making that katsudon thing 3 times when Victor comes to visit, right?  
**[Mitch, 20:05]** once for his first place….and twice for your 11th (because there are two 1’s…right?)  
**[Mitch, 20:36]** Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this one and thank you all so much for your support. It seriously means so much to me. THANK YOU and Happy New Year!
> 
> (Also...Taylor Swift's new album...the song Dress?! I have been listening to this album way too much...)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I’ve been really stressed for the past few months which is why these updates have been coming really really really slowly - I’m trying my best not to let my writing get tied up in that mess. I’m doing a yoga challenge which has been super helpful, and reading (and re-reading) all of your lovely comments and feedback for this series has done wonders as well - honestly I cannot thank you all enough creating such a supportive place for this fic to thrive. It means a lot :) 
> 
> And with this chapter, (I think) we are (finally) entering the back half of the fic…

_**June-August 2013, Detroit Michigan** _

Yuuri’s off-season was already fated to be several months shorter than the last, and it felt shorter still with the addition of summer classes, PR activities, workshops, and ice shows that made each day blur into the next. The only respite was the glorious stretch of fourteen days in May that he woke to the soft sounds of Victor’s breathing each morning and even softer murmurs of ‘I love you’ against the shell of his ear each night. And, of course, those days had passed the quickest of them all.

Yet he found that he didn’t mind. He and Celestino had fallen into a good groove in the time leading up to the World Championship and it felt amazing to be able to pick that pace right back up again. His eleventh palace finish and first taste at what it was like to compete at Victor’s side were more than enough to light a new fire under his skates for the upcoming season. 

The five interlocking rings on the billboard above the rink were enough to keep the flame going through even the most grueling practices. 

Yuuri committed to a reduced coarse load and the additional year it would add to his education. He reexamined his cross-training schedule and usual off-season workshops to learn new ways his body could move on the ice and focus on building his stamina. Celestino had his music selected and spliced, choreography was well underway, and costume fittings would be starting soon. 

If all that wasn’t enough, the Grand Prix assignments posted last week. Yuuri was set to compete at Skate America in Detroit and Rostelecom in Moscow, and Victor…

…also Skate America and Rostelecom. 

But these absurd strokes of good luck usually needed to be balanced out in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps that was why, despite dozens and dozens of hours spent scouring the web and streets, Yuuri still had no suitable place to live come August. And today’s search session wasn’t looking any more promising, even with Victor’s enthusiastic long distance help. 

“No, no way Yuuri,” Victor said firmly through the small speakers of Yuuri’s laptop, his face quickly shifting to one of horror as they simultaneously scrolled through each picture of the apartment unit. “Even if I stayed in a hotel every time I came to visit, I could not in good conscious allow you to live in an apartment with _that_ color flooring. Trust me - it matters if you have to see it every day.”

Yuuri clicked out of the window with a nod of agreement. The exterior of the building had looked nearly identical to the last link he had pasted into their chat window, but the difference between the interiors was incredible. “It was pretty hideous, wasn’t it?”

“Also coin operated laundry in a very sketchy looking basement.”

“Mmmm,” Yuuri agreed as he flicked over to the next tab. “Okay, what about the next one I sent - neutral carpet and natural wood - no green or orange shag carpet - in-unit laundry, gym facilities, pet friendly, roof top pool…”

Both of their eyes widened at the same time when they reached the bottom of the page, and Yuuri heard his quick exit click echoed on the other side of their Skype chat. “Even I think that price is unreasonable,” Victor sighed as he leaned closer to the screen.

“Don’t bother with the next one either,” Yuuri sighed, closing out of the last tab. “It’s just a sublet for the summer and in a rough area…”

“This is a lot more frustrating than I remember when I was looking,” Victor said, stretching his arms overhead with a yawn.

Yuuri suppressed a groan as he let his forehead fall to the cool wood of his desk. That had been exactly what Mitch and Kevin had said when he’d asked them earlier that week. There were thousands of listings available between campus and his rink, each of them having only most of what Yuuri was looking for in an apartment. Maybe all of the good ones were gone, maybe he had waited too long coming to the decision to move out of the dorm…

“What about that one we looked at together in May?” Victor asked after a few moments. “Not the studio, but that…what did they call it - a converted two-flat? That one was close to the rink, had laundry and brand new furnishings even. And the owner was very sweet and seemed flexible on the rent,” he continued, counting the points off on his fingers. 

Yuuri knew exactly which apartment Victor was talking about - he had looked over the pictures on his phone quite frequently since May. They found it by chance on one of their morning runs during Victor’s stay, a cute little two story house with beige siding and charming white fence held together by crawling ivy. It had been Victor who noticed the ‘For Rent’ sign, standing lopsided and bent on the grass from the spring storms that had been blowing through. 

Yuuri closed his eyes, remembering every detail of the walk through. The hardwood flooring that ran through the open concept living and dining space, the refurbished cherry wood kitchen cabinets and shiny appliances - refrigerator, dishwasher, laundry. The plush carpeting in the two bedrooms, separated by a large bathroom with his and hers vanities and a fancy shower head. The smell of new leather couches covered by drop cloths. The only thing missing had been beds in each of the bedrooms, which the landlord explained Yuuri would have to provide himself. 

“Yuuri?”

“Hmmm?” Yuuri blinked. 

“Have you thought about it at all?” Victor asked again.

Yuuri sighed as he crumpled up the wrapping from the sandwich he’d brought back to the dorm for lunch. “It really was perfect, but…”

“Is it the two bedroom thing?”

Yuuri bit his lip. “A bit,” he admitted, “but I mean I could use it as a studio or something if I added a few mirrors and temp flooring, but it’s just…that place is worth way more than what he’s asking for.”

“It’s what you said your budget was, when he asked. It was his choice, he didn’t have to offer it,” Victor countered. 

“I know, I know. I just feel…guilty I guess? I mean, there are so many other people that would love it and be able to offer more than I can.”

Victor shrugged. “So pay him more later, if you can - you still have some ice shows later this summer right? Anyway, it sounded like he was just looking for some extra income, as long as he could find a renter who was going to be respectful and quiet. He seemed to like us.”

Yuuri returned Victor’s smile half-heartedly. That was the other part of it, the part he wasn’t ready to say out loud: he’d seen the apartment with Victor, imagined their life in it together. Would he really be able to live there when the reality was so different? Maybe he should just sign up for the random placement lottery for the third and fourth year dorms…his stomach rolled at the thought. 

“I’ll think about it,” Yuuri finally conceded. “But for now…I’ve got to be at the rink soon, and you should be getting to bed.”

On cue, Victor yawned into his hand and Yuuri saw Makkachin’s face come into frame as the poodle placed her paws up on Victor’s chest whining at him. “I know, I know,” he cooed through another deep yawn.

“I should start getting ready,” he sighed. “Do you want me to let you go?”

Victor shook his head. “I can stay on for a bit longer. Off day tomorrow.”

They kept the call connected as they shuffled around their respective rooms, Victor readying for bed and Yuuri for practice. The silence was only interrupted by a barely audible sigh of _’Unfair’_ from Victor when Yuuri casually stripped out of his pajama pants in favor of his favorite black sweats. Yuuri bit his lip in triumph - pay back for all of the days Victor would Skype him after clearly only just stepping out of the shower. 

Yuuri’s eyes paused on the screen. He felt the blush rise up in his face when his eyes met Victor’s bright blue peaking above the edge of a notebook. Though Yuuri still couldn’t read the individual characters sprawled across the page, he did recognize the shape of them as a whole. Every morning and every night he saw the shapes blooming in whatever color ink was available, etched into paper, napkins, or the pale skin of Victor’s wrist.

He rummaged around his desk drawer for a pen, removing the cap with his teeth as he lifted the hem of his shirt. He stretched the skin of his hip taught between his index finger and thumb as he imagined the pen pulling the delicate strokes using ink from deep within his veins. 

_I love you._

xXx

True to his word, Yuuri did think about the apartment he and Victor scoped out in May. He thought about it a lot, actually. 

He thought about it on the sunny afternoon in late June as he helped Mitch move his belongings into his new apartment. It was the hottest day of the summer so far and it their sweating hands made it three times as hard to get a good grip on the cheap leather sofa coming from Dan’s old apartment. Of course, it was on the fifth floor and the elevator was out of service. Those were all issues Yuuri himself would not have to deal with in a near fully furnished second floor apartment.

Kevin moved out during the first week of July; that move went a lot more smoothly. The week after, his empty room was filled by a summer student who was a big fan of music with heavy bass lines. Yuuri wouldn’t have minded if it weren’t for the fact that his new temporary suite mate insisted on altering his speaker output so severely that the bass was distorted and unnecessarily loud. He couldn’t help but remember part of the conversation he had overheard between Victor and the landlord (Martin) regarding their shared appreciation for classical tunes, of both of the orchestral and rock varieties. Yuuri couldn’t imagine Martin treating a piece of music so rudely as the temp student. 

A week later, Yuuri lost one of his practice gloves while doing the laundry. It was one of the ones Victor had gifted him for his birthday the previous year, and while a replacement was on the way, he couldn’t help the burning knowledge that it wouldn’t be necessary if he had his own personal washer-dryer. 

A few days later, the dorm’s internet went down in the middle of a much needed Skype call with Victor. He’d finished himself sadly in the shower, under the spray of luke-warm water - with fewer students in the dorms, it took longer than ever for the hot water to flow through the pipes. Yuuri really, _really_ needed to get out of there, he thought as he went to bed that night. 

Little did he know that the apartment-gods would hear his pleas and offer him one final kick shortly after the final sunrise of July.

Yuuri hated driving in the best of conditions; he always held the steering wheel too tightly, flinched each time a car whipped by him on the road, and triple checked each turn and merge. Not that that was a problem today. Traffic had been moving at a slow crawl the entire stretch of highway between the dorms and the rink; an accident had blocked one of the lanes and was drawing the attention of the rest of the drivers. 

Yuuri’s gaze flickered from his speedometer (it’s needle fixed at zero) over to the jogging path that ran parallel to the sparsely populated frontage road. A woman was jogging there with her dog, following the smooth curve into one of the neighborhoods. The back of his head hit the plush headrest a few times in rapid succession - if she went straight and slowed to slow walk, she would probably still make it to the rink before him. 

If he moved into that apartment, perhaps he would actually fully dedicate himself to running as a form of exercise. It was two miles each way via the pedestrian path (the same one he was currently staring longingly at), which was nothing compared to some of the longer runs he took with Victor during their shared off-season training, but it would be better than what he usually accomplished when he managed to find the time in his schedule. 

A horn blared behind him, and he moved his car forward a full ten twenty feet watching as the irritable Prius behind him took every last inch he’d been demanding, nearly flush against Yuuri’s bumper. His jaw clenched and he wondered if it was possible to give oneself a concussion by tapping one’s head too many times on a cloth headrest. 

Eventually, he made it to the rink. He ignored the look of disapproval from the front desk staffer as he jogged lightly towards the small mirrored studio at the back of the complex. Yuuri wasted no time going through his warm-up stretches before moving on to what he had really wanted to work on when he left his dorm. He wouldn’t get the full hour of time he had been hoping to dedicate, but at least he had something. At the very least, the studio time would help him shed some of the stress that had piled up during his commute. 

(A commute that he wouldn’t have if he just _committed_.)

_‘Like this Yuuri.’_

The ghost of Victor’s gentle grip tingled across Yuuri’s skin as he moved his arm just so across his torso. He studied the movement in the mirror, adding the leg extension this time. It had been strange and lonely at first to watch his reflection move without Victor’s behind it, but he’d grown used to it the more and more he practiced. 

(Perhaps it would be the same in the apartment. Maybe the first few days would be hard, empty without Victor’s voice drifting through the space, but he could get used to it…)

_’Keep the arm in line with the back leg. Keep it straight - the delicacy should be focused in the other wrist and face.’_

Yuuri flowed through the next bit of choreography as the cello and piano duet sang in his ears, his feet tapping lightly across the wooden planks. 

(If he repurposed the second bedroom, he could do this on every night that sleep just wouldn’t come.) 

_‘Yes! Beautiful, Yuuri.’_

He adjusted his left hip back slightly as he hopped out of the triple flip’s place holder, remembering the soft pressure of Victor’s hands there, too. The movements were so familiar from when he skated the program in his junior days, but Victor’s instruction had coaxed out a completely new depth from them in the two short weeks they spent working on it together. They had occupied the small dance studio until nearly one-thirty in the morning on the first night, the music track playing on repeat as the creativity and passion flowed freely in the air between them. 

(They wouldn’t have to leave the apartment next time, if he just…)

Yuuri stretched his arms out, fingers on one hand caressing across the memory of Victor’s soft lips. He pulled them back, and turned, sweeping them overhead before reaching back for the sole of his foot, pulling it higher and higher. He shivered as he caught sight of his reflection again, remembering how he’d watched Victor’s hands trail up his torso, watched Victor’s lips kiss along the tendons of his neck as he held the backbend.

(They could actually finish what was often started in the public studios.)

He caught a flash of brown out of the corner of his eye. “Phichit?” His voice came out slightly startled as he eased his foot back to the floor, yanking himself from his distracted train of thought. He was at the rink, he needed to focus on training. 

“Oh sorry, Yuuri,” his rink mate said, “Celestino told me to find you.” 

“You’re out early,” Yuuri commented as he walked over to his bag. It was unusual for Phichit to get out of a session on time - he usually got distracted listening to music when he was supposed to be cooling down.

Phichit laughed nervously. “Aha, Ciao Ciao reminded me that I owed you some practice time from last week.” Yuuri hummed in amusement shook his head as he swapped out his split soles for socks. “What were you working on - free program?”

Yuuri bit his lip, considering. He knew what he hoped the program could be but… “Just something I’ve been messing around with."

“Messing around with?” Phichit repeated slowly.

“It means it’s not serious - I’m just having fun.”

Phichit rolled his eyes. “Yuuri, I know what that means - I just…you have a very strange definition of ‘messing around.’”

He took his time zipping up his bag. The truth was that he wanted it to be his free program, but that had already been determined several weeks ago. Yuuri had missed that chance out of fear of the idea being rejected by Celestino; it wasn’t the way they usually worked together. Since then though, he had been slowly working up the courage to suggest it as his exhibition piece for the season. 

The piece was nearly perfect at this point, or as perfect as Yuuri was capable of making it anyway. It was just a matter of finding the right way to bring it up to his coach; the longer and longer he waited, the more likely it was that he was to back out or have another idea pushed on him. And then there was the fact that he hadn’t asked Victor yet, it was his choreography after all. But Yuuri didn’t want to bring it up prematurely and get them both excited over nothing. 

“I’m sure he’d let you do skate this if you asked,” Phichit said softly, as if he could hear exactly what was going on in Yuuri’s head over the silence.

Yuuri turned back and offered his rink mate a genuine smile of thanks. “I - “

He was cut off by his phone buzzing wildly on the floor next to him. A Detroit area code flashed on the screen, but the cell signal in the rink was too weak for him to answer - the call went to voicemail. He held his breath for a few long moments until the voicemail notification pinged. 

_‘Hi Yuuri - this is Martin. You looked at my apartment back in May? Well, I wanted to let you know that I’ve had an offer for it.’_

Yuuri’s heart absolutely sank. 

_‘But, if you are still interested I can tell the other guy no. I need to know soon. My number is …’_

Every moment he spent subconsciously yearning over the apartment flooded his mind all at once, and, before he realized what he was doing, Yuuri hit the call back button. Mercifully, the call connected long enough for him to give his answer. 

“Everything okay, Yuuri?” Phichit asked, after the call ended.

Yuuri nodded as a wide smile broke out across his face. “Um yeah - I just got an apartment.”

“Oh Yuuri, that’s - “

“There you are!” 

Both skaters’ heads whipped around towards the open doorway, now occupied by their frazzled looking coach. “Phichit, you were supposed to send Yuuri to the ice, not distract him.” Two pairs of brown eyes connected, grins deepening. “What’s going on?”

“I got an apartment —” 

“—Yuuri was showing me a new program.”

There was a moment of silence after their voices collided. 

“Yuuri’s working up a program?”

Yuuri’s face heated. This was not at all how he had wanted this reveal to go - there was too much going on for him to process. “It’s just something Victor and I put together, for fun."

“I think it’s more than that - you’d know if you saw it, Ciao Ciao,” Phichit smiled, as if he knew exactly what he could get away with in their established rink mate dynamic. 

Yuuri half-heartedly glared. Phichit non-apologetically shrugged.

Their coach studied them in silence, eyes flicking between the pair of them. “Well,” he started, rubbing his jaw, “Skate America is right around the corner. You’ll probably need an exhibition piece ready if you keep skating like you did last week. How does that sound?”

Yuuri felt his heart flutter and his face heat further as he tried to wrap his mind around everything that had happened in the last two minutes. He got an apartment. He might have just made his first ever program suggestion to his coach. His coach thought he was skating well enough going into his season opening Grand Prix event to get on the podium - to share the podium with Victor Nikiforov, and then skate a program choreographed by him at the closing gala. 

“Um yeah, that sounds…I think I can do that,” Yuuri said with a nod. 

“Gambatte, Yuuri!” Phichit called after them. 

Celestino’s laughter rang down the hall. “I’m really glad the two of you are getting along so well,” he commented, holding open the heavy rink doors for Yuuri. 

Yuuri nodded with a smile. Their dynamic as rink mates had only developed further during the off season trainings together and increasing time spent hanging out outside of the rink. Celestino sat next to him as he laced up his skates in their usual silence, but Yuuri could tell that there was something on his coach’s mind. He waited, taking a bit more time than usual to check over the fastenings.

“He’s going to need your support this season, Yuuri. You must remember how it was, your first international event. Your first event with more than a handful of your rink mates and peers, competing against your idols.”

Yuuri’s gaze shifted up to meet his coach, remembering a conversation he’d had with Phichit over dinner a few weeks back. “He got a spot at the Nebelhorn Trophy, didn’t he?”

Celestino nodded. “I just got the call this morning.”

Yuuri exhaled as they stood and walked to the ice. He remembered others at the workshops that summer talking about the added difficulty of getting in this year because… _Oh._ Yuuri’s eyes went wide in realization. “He asked you to apply as a priority, didn’t he?”

Something akin to pride flickered in Celestino’s eyes as he crossed his arms. “Obviously there’s no guarantee that he’ll pick up one of the remaining Olympic spots for Thailand, but he was very adamant that he wanted to at least try. Either way, its a good event to start the international senior circuit.”

Yuuri pushed out onto the ice and started his warm-up as he digested the information. It was hard not to think of the Olympic games - even the billboard towering over their rink proudly displayed the five interlocking rings, the symbol trumping the smaller advertisements for the Skate America Grand Prix event to be hosted there in October. Yuuri had more or less secured his own spot with his decent enough finish at Worlds, assuming he stayed healthy and skated well until then. While many of the spots were determined already, there were usually a small unclaimed handful that were awarded based on the results of the Nebelhorn.

He imagined what it would feel like to have his senior international debut in an Olympic year and felt a rush of pride and affection towards Phichit. He wondered what he could possibly offer him that season to help. 

That was a train of thought for later, though.

Yuuri paused at the center of the ice as he waited for his phone to sync with the bluetooth system. He shook out the last of his nervous jitters. He wanted Celestino to like this skate. Moreover, he wanted to earn as many opportunities as he could to skate it during the season. 

Skate America. Rostelecom. (The Final.)

Nationals. 

Sochi.

Worlds.

He threw himself into the performance when the music started, letting his mind slip as much as possible into how he felt when practicing the routine with Victor. It was different though, knowing his audience. Celestino’s face was unreadable when he approached the boards.

“How long have you been working on this?” Celestino asked. 

Yuuri’s heart was pounding in opposition to the serene nature of the skating he’d just done. He’d never put something like that on display for his coach - or anyone really, other than Victor and occasionally Yuuko. Many of his programs in the past had been emotional and Yuuri had certainly let himself get lost in them, but this skate was something else entirely.

“Since May,” Yuuri replied, tracing the rim of his water bottle with his finger tip. “Just here and there.” 

His nerves relaxed slightly as he heard his coach’s deep hum of consideration. The sound was solid and stayed at a flat pitch - the hum of approval. 

“I was going to suggest a revival of last season’s short program - just because of time - but this one looks clean. Well put together, too.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said with a slight bow, biting back a smile. 

“You said Nikiforov helped?”

Yuuri nodded. “Um yes - we started with one of my old programs. You probably don’t - it was the season before we started working together,” he blushed at Celestino’s amused smile, “but Victor revised it, matured it.”

Another hum. “It’s a good interpretation. It’s fresh and shows how much you’ve grown as a skater over the past few years. Your fans are going to go nuts.”

“Ahhh I - “

Celestino waved his hand. “I approve - send me the audio file and we’ll make sure it’s set to go for the season.”

“Yes, coach.”

Now that he had Celestino’s blessing, he just had to run the idea by Victor, which ended up being a surprisingly difficult feat. Some of it was the timing - they had both just launched into their full blown intensive training schedules, which left little time for long or significant phone calls most days. Another part was Yuuri being nervous that Victor would hate the idea…though most of him knew it wasn’t true. He was curious though, to see how Victor _would_ react. 

It wasn’t until mid-August that they finally had a perfect storm of coinciding off days. It also happened to be Moving Day.

Victor was lounging in his bed with a steaming mug of coffee when the call connected. It was a rare occasion when their schedules lined up like this - Victor up early after an off day and Yuuri up late leading into one - but Yuuri savored these calls the most. There was a special softness in his cheeks and something so alluring about the way his hair laid fresh out of bed that made it impossible not to smile. 

“I wish I could be there to help,” Victor sighed, taking another sip of his coffee.

“There’s really not much left to unpack,” Yuuri assured him, as he finally sank down into the desk chair. Despite his few belongings, it had taken more trips up and down the stairs than he’d expected, even with Mitch’s help. He had never been more glad to not have to be on the ice the next day, because apparently moving brought about it’s own entirely unique type of exhausted. 

“Still, we found the place together. I kind of wanted to help you move in, too.” 

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at Victor’s impossibly sincere pout. “I know, Vicchan. I wish…” he paused, struck with an idea as his eyes fell upon the small stack of boxes at his side, each marked ‘Bedroom’. He picked up the smaller of the two and held it up for Victor to see. “I’ll wait to unpack this one until Skate America - we can do it together.”

“What’s in it?” Victor asked, face notably brighter as he leaned forward.

“Some of my medals from last year, pictures, and ah…” Yuuri blushed, suddenly realizing what else he had packed away in the box. “…things like that.”

“Things like that?” Victor smirked, as if he could see the small stack of posters with his face on them through the cardboard.

_‘Why did I pick this box?’_ he whined to himself.

“Anyway,” Yuuri said, blushing further at Victor’s gentle laughter, cutting of whatever he was going to say next. “I um, wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

Yuuri bit his lip nervously, wondering how Victor would react. It was now or never…unless he wanted to get back onto the topic of the dozen authentic Victor Nikiforov posters enclosed in the box. (He did not.)

“I’ve been thinking about what I want to do for my exhibition skate, and…Celestino agreed to let me skate _The Swan_ \- your choreography, I mean - if that’s okay with you?” 

The words came out more quickly than he had intended, and as Victor’s silence lingered, he feared that he would be forced to say them again. But then, a soft ‘Oh’ passed through Victor’s lips as his eyes widened. Yuuri saw something flicker in them as a soft pink spread across the crest of his cheeks - the smile that followed tugged at something inside of him. 

“I’d make sure they say your name, you know for the choreog - “ 

“You really like it?” Victor interrupted, as if being credited was the last thing on his mind. “Enough to…”

“I love it, Victor,” Yuuri nodded with a bemused smile. He hadn’t considered that the question of whether or not he liked it was up for debate. Surely he had made that clear when he had submitted to hours and hours of late night practices in May. 

Victor was silent as he ran his fingers through his sleep-rumpled hair, eyes still wide. Yuuri wished he knew what was going through his mind. “Yes,” he finally said. 

“Um, yes? So it’s okay with you?” Yuuri asked after a moment, a bit thrown by the level of surprise or disbelief that still lingered in Victor’s expression. 

“Oh Yuuri, it’s more than okay,” Victor sighed, cheek settling into his hand. “I can’t wait to see it.”

“Well I mean I still have to, you know medal,” Yuuri laughed. 

“Mmm, please do,” Victor sighed with another bite of his lip. 

Yuuri furrowed his brow, sensing a bit of hesitation in his expression. “What is it?” he asked as it lingered in Victor’s eyes.

“I um, I actually had some more ideas for the program,” he smiled. “I was thinking about it the other night, but there’s that one part where…”

Yuuri moved to the bed to get more comfortable as Victor rambled on for a bit about ideas for changes, his concerns about how certain parts they had practiced on the studio floor wouldn’t translate well to the ice. How most skaters don’t do too many jumps in exhibitions, but Victor always liked to include at least one (lately, a quad flip) - so they’d have to figure out what Yuuri’s signature jump was going to be. 

Most importantly though, Victor determined, was going to be getting a more passionate recording of the song to use, one that fully complemented the emotional range of Yuuri’s skating. At that, Yuuri felt the familiar ‘something' settle inside of his heart.

“…will be easier if we could work it out together in person. Do you think we’ll have time before the open practices start if I fly out a day earlier? Oh! And a costume! Zolotse, there’s so much -”

“I love you.”

Victor paused, lips parted. A tiny laugh escaped them as he spoke, “I love you too, my Yuuri. Is this…am I being too much right now? I…maybe it should be Celestino making these decisions - he’s your coach after all.”

Yuuri shook his head. He couldn’t imagine working on the intimate aspects of the program with anyone other than Victor, and he did not want to leave any other impression. “No,” he said firmly, “I think he understands. We don’t usually spend much time together on my exhibitions, or not in our private sessions anyway.” 

It was the right response - a whole new light glossed over Victor’s face that had nothing to do with the rays of the rising sun, the same ones that had just disappeared through Yuuri’s own windows. 

“I can’t wait to see our work out on the ice, where it belongs.” Victor paused, biting his lip. “Though I loved seeing it in our little dance studio, too. Just the two of us.” His voice shifted noticeably, quieted down to a volume that beckoned Yuuri to lean in closer.

A slow pulse trailed down Yuuri’s body. He licked his lips as Victor took a final swig of his coffee. “I’ve thought a lot about our studio time,” he confessed with a long sigh. “This time, we’ll have our own space to go back to. No pretending to be asleep or out in case someone knocks on the door.”

Victor hummed deep in approval. “Mmmm, we wouldn’t even have to make it to your room, lyubov moy.” 

Yuuri inched closer to the monitor, sitting on the edge of his chair, waiting for Victor to continue setting the scene. He was always so good at this. Yuuri was getting better, but there was something so thrilling about the images that Victor spun for them to enjoy.

“It is your first night in a new home - there’s a tradition, right? I know if I was there with you, we would have broken in at least the shower at this point,” Victor smirked, eyes going dark. 

Yuuri hummed in approval, picking up the though seamlessly. “I’d get on my knees for you again, just like in our hotel room after the banquet,” he breathed, palming himself now as he remembered the way Victor’s moans had echoed around the titled shower stall, how those pale fingers gripped through his wet hair.

“Fuck, Yuuri,” Victor gasped. “Are you tired or do you want to…”

Yuuri nearly snorted at the question. He slowly stood and started stripping his shirt off in response. He knew it was Victor’s day off - they could make this last for hours. But somehow Yuuri knew that wasn’t going to happen. He was still feeling wound up from earlier that morning when he’d woken up dreaming about the scene he had just described. Moments was all it took for both of them to situate themselves on their respective beds, both gently touching and whispering.

It had been three months since he last felt Victor’s body move against his own, but he knew Victor’s skin would be so warm beneath his fingertips, heartbeat rapid as his own hands clutched to every piece of Yuuri he could reach. Yuuri wanted to feel the friction of his callouses, memories of skating and daily life pressing into him as they dragged down his back, his chest.

“God I miss you so much,” Yuuri breathed. “Wish you were here with me.”

“If I was with you, how would you want me?" Victor asked, pausing to coat his first few fingers in lube. 

Yuuri’s mind went blank for a moment at the implication. It had always been Victor sliding into his body when they were together, not the other way around…yet. But, oh, Yuuri been thinking about it, dreaming about it, enough to know what he wanted when the time came. He moved to his knees and sat back on his heels, putting himself on full display.

“Just like this - I’d want to be over you. Maybe I’d pin your hands over your head…kiss your neck as I pushed in,” he moaned, moving one of his hands to his aching cock.

He watched, captivated, as Victor’s fingers dance lower. He didn’t have to see their destination to know when it was reached - a sensuous gasp surged through the speakers and if he closed his eyes, Yuuri could imagine the vivid, hot wet heat of Victor’s breath across his cheeks. Yuuri bit back a moan as his hand came to a complete stop, fingers gripping firmly around the base of his cock, watching as Victor’s face tipped closer to the camera. This was going to be fast.

“Sh-shit, Victor,” he whined as another trill of ecstasy escaped his boyfriend’s lips. “Beautiful…so…”

But the word was a lie - a gross understatement of reality. 

Victor was a vision. Stunning, radiant even, as he stared back at Yuuri, the thin blue slices of his irises never straying from their focal point. Silver hair was starting to shadow over them, rustled occasionally by the gasping exhales as he slowly fingered himself open. Yuuri wanted to reach out and brush the stray locks out of his face, then trail his hand down…down.

“Ah, Yuuri!” Victor gasped suddenly, neck arching off of his pillow. “So good, you feel so good,” he praised, kindling the desire deep within Yuuri’s core to a whole new heat. 

“Yes, Victor - want you so much,” Yuuri breathed. 

He watched, transfixed by the little micro movements of the muscles in Victor’s hand, memorizing their rhythm and the alluring melodies they pulled from his lips. He let his own hand slide freely along his cock again, let his hips move, matching the tempo and adding his own harmony. Their voices teased and tangled together - building, cascading, crashing to create words. Beautiful. Yes. More. Fuck. Please. Love.

Yuuri came the next time his name slipped through Victor’s lips, and by the sound of things, he was soon followed. Their panting evolved into soft broken laughter the next time their eyes met. 

“Fuck.” 

“Fuck,” Yuuri quickly agreed, not bothering to disguise his appreciation of Victor’s completely wrecked state.

“I think I like your new apartment already.” Victor sighed. 

Yuuri hummed, equally satisfied. “I can’t wait until Skate America, when you’ll be here to enjoy it with me in person.”

“Part of me will miss your little dorm room, though.”

“Why?” Yuuri snorted as he wiped his chest clean. 

Even Day One of apartment life was a whole new world outside of the dorms. No thumping bass beats from upstairs. No slamming doors at two AM. No need to worry about random knocks at the door followed by questions of ‘Do you guys want to go out tonight?’ or ‘Are we having katsudon tonight?’ when all Yuuri really wanted to do was finish getting Victor off (at an inconspicuous volume, of course), or be able to watch a movie with him uninterrupted. 

“We made a lot of good memories there. I’ll always remember how it sounded when I knocked on that door to pick you up for our first date, and how we always spent half of the night trying to find a comfortable way for both of us to sleep on your tiny bed.”

Yuuri blushed, glancing over to the one framed picture he had unpacked. It was a selfie taken on their first date. One of the small peach roses Victor had given him was carefully pressed between the glass as well. Had that picture really been taken over a year ago now?

“We’ll just have to make some more here,” he smiled.

They eventually said their goodnights and, for the first time that day, Yuuri truly allowed himself to settle in to his new apartment. He could hear the occasional car as it drove down the street and the more distant constant rush of the highway. He jumped when the wind whistled passed his windows. There were rain drops spattered against the glass - when had it started raining? He could hear the drops now in the absence of Victor’s voice, pounding down on the rooftop. He curled his blanket up to his chin.

From his bed, he could see straight through the bathroom to the connected second bedroom. The shadows of tree branches danced eerily across the floor, illuminated by the light post just outside. Yuuri crept out of bed, seeking comfort in the way the plush carpet pushed between his toes - at least the floorboards beneath didn’t groan under him. His hand hesitated on the door knob as he surveyed the empty second bedroom. With a resolved exhale, he pulled it shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing transition chapters is something I always struggle with, but I hope you all like it and are ready for this next little story arc! (Also, I swear I did not intend for this to be a slow burn rink mates-to-roommates fic for Phichit and Yuuri...sorry, hang in there!)
> 
> UPDATE April 29– Sorry for the long wait on Ch 17! Personal/work life is very stressful atm and is resulting in a lot of writing block. I’m hoping to snag some much needed vacation time soon to reconnect with this fic again. Thank you so much for your patience and your encouragement is very very much appreciated. Love you all!
> 
> 6/13 - Still alive and I think I’m getting close :) Discovery writing can be a Ride sometimes, and this one required me to do some revisions to the remaining outline for the fic. I’ve gotten in straightened out enough where I’m starting to be able to actually write more and am working on several chapters in parallel which is a good thing :) thanks to those of you who have checked in love you all!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!!! Life has been an interesting and busy challenge since we last spoke - I'll leave it there :)
> 
> When I was about 90% done with Chapter 17, I realized that what I had written was actually Chapter 18...I both love and hate when that happens. So welcome to the actual Chapter 17. We left off at the start of the 2013-2014 skating season, with Yuuri moved into a new apartment and Victor agreeing to work with him on an exhibition skate. Meanwhile, Phichit's senior international debut looms closer...

_**September 2013** _

After all of the time and effort Yuuri had put into actually finding a place to live, he spent very little time physically there in the weeks that followed. His logged hours on-ice were at an all time career high as he navigated both Celestino’s and Victor’s training schedules. It felt like he was having his blades sharpened on a near-weekly basis, which would have been a huge pain had he not found a place so close to the rink. Or so he reminded himself each time his phone reminder went off alerting him to do so.

The compromise, however, was it’s increased distance from campus. Whereas before he could go back to the dorms and rest between classes, he was now tied to the awkward life of the commuting student - toting around a heavy bag and napping in any and every available corner of the library. When he wasn’t studying, of course.

And so went his schedule in an endless loop: rink, gym, class, library, studio, class, library - collapse in bed.

Or rather that’s how it went most of the time. Thursdays were the exception with an extra glorious hour of rink time dropped into the middle of the day. It was also the one day out of the week when he had just one lecture, and it was pre-recorded online. Yuuri lived for Thursdays.

Selections from _Carmen_ were playing overhead when he entered the main arena. The shared practice sessions were always much too busy for his liking, but they were usually a necessary evil once or twice a week. Especially with the roaring success Celestino and the other coaches at the club were having attracting wave after wave of newly ambitious skaters. 

One of the junior skaters dressed in red and black was using the full right side of the rink to practice her program. A much younger skater watched from across the ice, eyes alight as she watched the first jump passage. Closer to the back corner, an assistant coach was working with a younger teen on what looked like a triple lutz.

Soon though, it would just be him out on the ice.

He placed his bag down at the far left side. It was heavier than usual - weighed down by his laptop, camera, and speakers necessary for his remote coaching - _choreography_ \- sessions, with Victor. His insides buzzed as he spied the zamboni in position across from him, waiting patiently to resurface the ice. It was off, though it’s driver appeared to be staring at his watch as the seconds ticked down. 

Celestino was directly in front of him, leaning over the barrier as close as he could get to his pupil on the ice. His hands would be in fists, ready to throw into the air. His lips would be moving, muttering words of encouragement in Italian. 

The Nebelhorn Trophy was a week away and Celestino was working Phichit to the bone on the details of his program. There was much more at stake this year than a gold, silver or bronze medal. Every fraction of a point, even off podium, mattered when the ultimate prize was a spot at the Olympic games. Tonight, the focus was spin sequences. 

Yuuri paused to linger just behind his coach, heart racing as counted the revolutions. Even in the last week there had been tremendous improvement in his form and stamina.

_Hang in there - just a few more,_ he urged quietly, grip tightening on his laces.

“Bravo!” Celestino slapped his palm against his notepad as Phichit pulled up and took the final few movements to his ending pose. It was nearly seamless. 

_Just like we’ve been practicing,_ Yuuri thought with a spark of pride.

“Alright, time to cool down,” Celestino called out with a clap of his hands. The other coaches followed suit with their own students.

“Hi Celestino,” Yuuri bowed as his coach turned to the stands.

“Yuuri! You’re early today,” Celestino said, taking a seat at his side. “I was going to email you, but I guess I can just fill you now. Terry agreed to fill in next week while I’m gone with Phichit.”

Yuuri nodded as he went back to lacing up his skates. He didn’t mind Terry, and if he was being honest, his programs could probably use the careful eyes of the rink’s premiere jump coach. His quad salchow was so close to landing at fifty-percent that it was infuriating.

“I’ve sent him your usual schedule, including your Thursday session.”

Yuuri flinched inwardly. He preferred that as few people as possible knew what he was getting up to in these sessions. 

“Don’t worry, he won’t be out here with you, but someone more senior than the usual rink staff should be around in case you need anything,” Celestino said. “And please, just promise me you’ll stick to the schedule. I don’t need to come back again to find you with an ace-wrapped wrist.”

“Yes coach,” Yuuri agreed quickly with a small blush. He was not ready to admit that his minor sprain had been sustained because he missed the last few steps leading down into his lecture hall, and not from over-practicing his jumps like his coach assumed. 

“Phichit!” Celestino’s voice boomed across the rink. 

Yuuri watched with amusement from beside his coach as Phichit continued his even strokes around the rink, his arms flourishing, face firm in concentration - the face of someone trying to decode what was supposed to happen next in his story. 

“CHULANONT!”

Phichit’s eyes, as well as several of the other skaters, widened comically when he finally spun around to face them. “Ciao Ciao! Yuuri!” he waved, as if noticing them for the first time.

“You’re supposed to be cooling down - practice is over!”

“Oops,” Phichit laughed nervously, rubbing his hand behind his head. “Sorry Ciao Ciao! It’ll just be a minute, okay, Yuuri?”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri smiled, “take your time.”

“Mmmm, don’t say that. He’s not as bad as you are, but still,” Celestino groaned. 

After a few more laps, Phichit obediently approached the boards to slide on his guards. “Yuuri, you’re going to be here for another hour, right? Would you mind if I - “

“Nope, absolutely not! We’re leaving in two days, which will give us plenty of time to go over any remaining program snags when we get there. I promise - we’ll drive to any rink that will let us practice, if needed. Please, get some rest today,” Celestino sighed, at his wit’s end.

Phichit let out a baffled laugh. “Yes I know but— “

Celestino held up a hand. “Stop. I know that you - both of you - “ he started, turning his glare towards Yuuri as well, “have been staying late to work on your spins, among other things.”

Yuuri’s eyes immediately flickered over to Phichit’s — oops. Their guilt was almost audible as they all hung in silence. Perhaps they had been a bit naive - okay a lot naive - in thinking their actions of the last few weeks would go unnoticed. They should probably be surprised that they got away with it as long as they had.

“I let it go on for a while, but as your coach I have to put my foot down. Phichit, your season debut is next week - your first shot at the Olympics is on the line! I need you fresh. And you,” he said, turning his attention back to Yuuri. 

He straightened his shoulders, bracing himself. What was he going to do if Celestino decided to deny his practice time with Victor? He looked longingly at the ice over his coach’s shoulder. His brain raced his heart, spinning and clutching on to one counter argument after another, ready if he had to use them.

Celestino’s face flickered with something - a battle was waging there too. What side would win? Finally a sigh of concession. 

“One hour - like we agreed. Your season opener isn’t too far off either, and I know you’ve been keeping even later hours for school. Please, just listen to your coach. For once.”

Relieved, it took Yuuri a moment to collect his thoughts, but ultimately, it was Phichit who was first to find his words. “I was actually just going to ask Yuuri if I could help with the camera or something. Maybe just watch for a bit. From the stands.” 

Celestino sighed, waving a hand up by his head. “Fine. But if I hear from anyone that it was different, then that’s it. For both of you.”

“Yes, coach!” they said in unison. 

With a final grunt, Celestino turned and left in the direction the other coach-skater pairs had taken several minutes previously. That had been close, Yuuri thought as his gaze connected with Phichit once more. 

It surprised him to find that his rink mate looked just as relieved as he felt at the final decision. 

“It is okay with you that I stay right? I’ll help with whatever you need and stay out of the way,” Phichit said, approaching Yuuri’s bags. 

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I usually set up here.”

Phichit took charge of getting the equipment all set up as Yuuri texted Victor about the new development. He (re)introduced them when the Skype call connected, but the small talk was kept to a minimum. Victor launched into a detailed overview of the diagram he’d drawn up for the back half of the program, making sure Yuuri could envision where all of the big moments would happen. 

Working up an exhibition skate was different from a regular program, especially the way Victor did them. 

_‘It’s for your fans,’_ he had told Yuuri on one of their first planning calls. _‘You need to play all parts of the stage. Big moments can happen anywhere - not just in front of the judges’ stands. Each person in the arena should feel like you are skating for only them.’_

Even though Yuuri’s physical audience that evening amounted to one set of eyes, it somehow felt like thousands. It wasn’t like Phichit hadn’t watched him skate before, but it seemed different that afternoon. He could feel those eyes following him as he moved across the rink. It was acute at first, but eventually as the hour wore on, Yuuri grew used to it. 

Victor worked him relentlessly up and down the rink, calling out equal parts praise and critique. It was a whirlwind and he had little time to rest between runs. The last quarter of an hour of each of their sessions was always reserved for back to back performances - a feat which got (slightly) easier each week. 

Before he knew it, their time on the ice was over. 

“The middle section is not great,” Victor greeted him as he skated over to his laptop.

Yuuri nodded as he slid to a stop in front of the boards. 

“There’s nothing we can do about it now. I really just need to be there with you to work it out, I think,” Victor sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I will figure it out.”

Yuuri smiled, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “I know you will.”

He took a long slug of water as Victor finished up his notes. The ‘middle part’ had been slowly growing into a bit of a sore spot. He could see how much it frustrated Victor week after week. 

“It’s a beautiful program, Victor. It will come together.”

“I know…” Victor’s face eventually cracked into a small smile. “You were beautiful out there, solnyshko,” he said, voice soft velvet through the speakers. “That expression you had on your face right at the end…I wish I could crawl through my screen and - “

A series of coughs emanated from the stands, stopping Victor mid sentence.

“We should go - you um, you should get ready for bed and stuff,” Yuuri said, biting his lip at the pink blooming across Victor’s cheeks. 

Victor nodded with a light laugh. “Right. Later, Phichit!” he called.

“Have a good night, Victor,” Phichit shouted back with a light snort.

“I love you,” Victor said more quietly, face dipping closer to his camera. 

“Love you too,” Yuuri said back. “I’ll call before I go to bed and leave you a message as usual.”

“Mmmm, I love waking up to your voice,” Victor sighed. “Now go cool down. Phichit - make sure Yuuri gets a good stretch in after this.”

“Yes, Coach Nikiforov.”

Victor’s lips tightened for a brief moment before his lips turned up into a half smile. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“See ya."

“Ugh you guys are disgustingly cute - we need to eat before it settles in and completely ruins my appetite,” Phichit teased, hopping down the stands. “Stir fry at yours after this? I have some stuff back at the dorms, but the kitchen is being remodeled.”

Yuuri nodded, famished. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

xXx

“Oh no - Yuuri, we have a problem.”

Yuuri turned around to see Phichit crouched down in front of the cabinets. In his hand was Yuuri’s lone skillet - eight inches in diameter, with low sides.

Phichit was pushing him out the door towards his car before he could even work up an apology for his ill-outfitted kitchen. He diligently followed the instructions muttered to him until they arrived in front of a clearly repurposed Victorian-style house. _Second Stitch_ was printed in old gothic font across the bay window. 

A small bell chimed over head and he managed a quick greeting as Phichit immediately dragged him towards the back of the store, which was clearly the kitchen and dining area.

“I’ll be back with a few things - cannot believe you don’t own a decent wok. Who are you?”

With that, Yuuri was left to explore the unique offerings of the second hand shop. There were racks of clothing towards the center, hosting everything from garish, trendy suits to vintage lace wedding dresses towards the back. Paintings, mirrors, and ornate empty picture frames adorned the walls - Yuuri slipped a few of the latter into his basket to replace the two casualties he’d had during the move. 

He smiled nervously at an older woman who narrowed her eyes at him from one of the jewelry tables - she had a magnifying glass in one hand and a pad of paper in the other. Thankfully, he was not in the market for anything of that nature and had no intention on infringing on her treasure hunt. He did, however, snag a small gold keychain in the shape of the state of Michigan. It would be perfect to hold the keys that he ordered earlier that morning from the locksmith’s shop.

Yuuri continued to browse the wares, sending pictures of particularly interesting items to Victor, including a baby blue dishcloth dotted with a playful poodle pattern. Surprisingly, his phone buzzed with Victor’s response before the screen had even started to dim. It was unusual for Victor to still be awake at this hour.

**[Victor, 15:12]:** OMG  
**[Victor, 15:12]:** I’m dying - that’s so precious  
**[Victor, 15:12]:** You have to buy that

**[Yuuri, 15:12]:** Oh hey look - there’s two

Yuuri snapped one final picture of the dish towels nestled safely inside of his basket. A stream of heart and dog emojis appeared below. 

Finally, he started to make his way back to the center of the store, pausing to spin the globe sitting on an antique looking writing desk. He could likely get lost in there for days and still not discover everything the shop had to offer. Maybe it was somewhere he and Victor could explore during his stay next month, Yuuri smiled to himself as he spied an entire corner wall lined with books. 

Phichit rolled his eyes when he saw what was in Yuuri’s basket. “You would.”

“Victor said they were precious,” Yuuri blushed. 

“He would.” Phichit bit his lip. “But, ah did you see any hamster print ones?”

Yuuri laughed. “No, actually.”

Phichit hummed in disappointment, turning to walk in the direction of the front counter. “Well I found a decent wok, and a few other essentials,” he said, hefting his basket up a bit higher. “So unless you…”

Yuuri shook his head and started to follow behind. “No, I’m ready whenever you…”

Phichit’s feet stopped as suddenly as his words and Yuuri nearly ran straight into him. “Wh- oh. OH.” 

Because he saw exactly what his rink mate was currently looking at. Nestled inside of the glass case below an old fashioned tube TV sat a compact purple cube. The neighboring bookshelf, which he had originally assumed contained DVDs, suddenly looked like a gold mine. 

He tossed an instinctive glance over his shoulder - the old woman had moved in closer, inspecting the cutlery now.

“Do you think it actually works?” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve never run across anything here that hasn’t,” Phichit breathed, taking a cautious step forward. “But I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Three hours later, Phichit’s fresh produce and fish remained untouched in Yuuri’s fridge and empty take-out boxes were left abandoned on the coffee table behind them.

“Come on!” Yuuri hissed as he mashed his fingers harder over the controls. Next to him, Phichit rose up onto his knees, leaning even closer to the TV. 

Both of their damage gauges were right on the edge of two hundred percent. The next one to land a big hit would be the winner - not even agility could save Phichit now. His heart was pounding harder than the bass beats of his short program music, faster than it had been the first time he landed a jump in competition, as he maneuvered away from the dematerializing platform. He dodged the item capsule and repositioned himself just in time to release his cannon charge. 

It sailed sailed just off target. 

Party hat Pikachu charged, forcing Samus over the edge of the stage - the crowd gasped as Samus pulled herself back up - right into the blast of a fire flower. Yuuri sat up on his knees, as Samus into the air, narrowly avoiding a crispy death. 

“Ha!” 

“Oh sh—“ 

_’Pikaa-‘_

“Nooooo!” Yuuri watched helplessly as the thunderbolt flashed in the sky, jolting Samus immediately off of the stage until she was nothing more than a tiny silver speck in the sky. He hadn’t even noticed Phichit moving into position below him in all of his excitement in managing to stay on the stage.

**PLAYER DEFEATED!**

“Yeah!” Phichit whooped, thrusting his controller into the air as Pikachu did his little victory dance across the screen. “I thought you said you were good at this.”

Yuuri groaned as he scrolled through the stats screen. They were absolutely miserable compared to what he used to put up against Mari and computer players. “It’s been a while, okay?”

“I need some evidence of this,” Phichit said as he tugged them both into position in front of the victory screen for a selfie. Yuuri obliged him with an over the top frown. “Leo would be so proud.”

Yuuri left Phichit to his furious assault on the hashtag key as he sorted out their leftovers and dishes. 

“Thanks for tonight - I really needed this,” Phichit said as he set his phone off to the side. “I’ve been letting the pressure get to me, especially this last week.”

Yuuri sat back down and leaned against the base of the couch, pulling his knees against his chest, ready to let his rink mate talk. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied. His nerves ticked up a bit. Hopefully it was something he would be able to answer. He wasn’t the best at giving motivational talks like Victor. 

“Is Ciao Ciao…does he always get like this right before an event? Intense, I mean,” Phichit clarified. “It’s not like I haven’t competed before, and yeah I know that this one is a really big deal, but he seems different.”

Yuuri cracked a smile as Phichit went on to describe all of the little oddities, every nervous tick of pre-competition Celestino. Oh, he knew exactly what his rink mate was dealing with. And yes, unwinding with take out and video games was the exact cure for dealing with the situation. He just needed to ask one final question to be sure. 

“Has he started stocking your favorite tea in his office yet?” Yuuri broke in after a minute. 

“I can’t drink oolong tea without feeling stressed out,” Phichit groaned, as if his worst nightmare had come to life. “How do you deal with it, Yuuri? Competition after competition, for what…two, three years? How?”

“Just talk to him, Phich,” Yuuri offered. “Tell him exactly what you told me.”

“What, that he’s driving me nuts?”

Yuuri laughed for a moment before allowing himself to grow a bit more serious. “He was like a helicopter before our first big international event together - and again for the first one after I moved here to train. You know how I get sometimes before competitions - I need my space.”

“Or several spaces,” Phichit teased. His eyes smiled back at Yuuri in understanding. 

“Every skater handles events differently. It’s probably hard for him to guess what each of us needs, especially the first few times,” Yuuri continued. 

“So what did you do?”

“The first time?” Phichit nodded. “I ran away, hid until the last possible moment when I needed to be at warm-ups.”

“And the next time?”

“The same thing,” Yuuri smiled. “Just talk to him about it. Really. Ask…ask for what you want.”

The last thing was something Victor had told him. Curled up on the floor of a locker room, phone pressed to the side of his face so tightly that he skated through warm-ups with an impression of the keypad in his cheek. 

Ask for what you want. 

It was a very hard thing to follow up on - even Victor himself admitted as much. But the sentiment was a powerful one. It was firm. Clear. It gave direction. 

Yuuri startled as Phichit sank back against the couch by his side. “Thanks, Yuuri. I mean it - for that, and for letting me crash your session today. I know you don’t like being watched, but I needed it.”

Yuuri smiled. “You’ll be great next week, Phichit. Your spins tonight were some of the best I’ve seen. And you have a really fun program - there’s no way people won’t like it. Just do the skating you—“

Phichit’s face cracked into a huge grin. Yuuri snapped his jaw shut, realizing what he was about to say. Again. He braced himself for whatever was about to come his way from his rink mate’s parted lips.

“You’re different with him.”

_…wait, what?_

Yuuri blinked. Out of all of the teasing little quips his rink mate could have stored up over the last year… Finally, he managed to push a squeaky, cracked laugh through his vocal chords. No words followed, annoying him to no end. 

Phichit didn’t seem to mind his lack of response. In fact, he seemed to have expected it. “I’ve been watching you for years, probably since before you came here to train. It was part of the reason why it was so easy for me to come when Celestino asked.”

Yuuri pulled his knees close to his chest, wrapping his arms around his shins. His rink mate had told him the chain of events that ended with him in Detroit. How each newly opened door in his career always seemed to lead to another locked one. Until Celestino swept in with a successful track record and stable rink environment.

But Phichit had never told him _this_ before. The confession made him feel warm. A bit self-conscious, but warm. 

_‘I’m glad you came,’_ Yuuri wanted to say. He smiled into his knees instead.

“…and I’ve never seen you skate like you did today. It was the same Katsuki Yuuri, but there was a spark there that Ciao Ciao has never been able to light. Your free program at Worlds was the closest I’ve seen, but even then, it was Victor who walked you out to the ice, wasn’t it?”

Yuuri nodded, remembering that moment with a flash of guilt how his coach had been an afterthought in Victor’s shadow at the boards that day. 

“I…” his words failed him again. He should be able to give the same product and effort to his actual coach as he did Victor. What did it mean that others could tell the difference? 

Phichit’s phone started buzzing between them, a catchy tune blaring through the speakers. “Oh shoot, it’s Leo. I forgot I said I’d Skype with him tonight.”

The tense moment broke and Yuuri sighed in relief. He had some things to work through on his own. “You better get going then.”

Phichit’s brow furrowed. “I - “

Yuuri stood, cutting in as he did so. “Are you fine biking or do you need a ride?” _(‘It’s okay, let it be.’)_

Phichit met his gaze and nodded. “I’ll be fine - still got a bit of sunlight out there. I should actually get a bike light soon,” he said as stood to collect his things. “Wonder if the thrift store has any.”

“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow,” Yuuri said, walking them over to the door.

Phichit laughed. “Of course. You busy after? I wouldn’t mind winning some more.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ll see about that.”

Dinner became an unwritten appointment in both of their calendars after that, especially since Celestino had taken to personally seeing them out through the front doors of the rink each afternoon. They experimented with new recipes, raided the local thrift store for unwanted treasures, and ground their way through several barely touched co-op games sitting in Yuuri’s entertainment center when their homework load was light.

The first day after Phichit left for Germany was silent. Or nearly so at least, broken only by the periodic squeaks and rustles from the glass terrarium sitting on a table in the unused bedroom. Beside it sat a very detailed light novel on basic hamster care open to a section dedicated to hamster handling. 

“I don’t get it,” Yuuri sighed as the little grey and white creature eyed his open palm with skepticism. “They just jump right into Phichit’s hands - let him pick them up and carry them around like it’s nothing. I’m here offering way more treats that he would approve of, and still, nothing.”

“Can’t you just like…you know, just dive in and scoop them up?”

He glanced down to his phone where Victor was role playing with one of Makkachin’s toys. “I tried that with the more bronze-y one, but he just wriggled away. I don’t want to drop them, Phichit would kill - oh! Wait - the gold one is coming back…”

Yuuri focused on keeping his hand steady as the hamster inspected his offering for the third time that hour. Gingerly, she climbed across his first few fingers, sniffing as she went. It tickled, but he fought to keep still - he promised Phichit that he would adhere to their daily exercise regime, and what better time for them to be rolling around on his floor than during their ‘dad’ during his free skate. Even if it wasn’t their usual energetic time of the day, Phichit’s music was lively enough to get anyone to their feet.

“Online it says you can also use a cardboard tube.”

“A what?”

“You know, like an empty toilet paper roll and then just block the ends off while you carry it around.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I think I just have to be patient.”

He held his breath for a long moment as the hamster started nibbling at the treat. The book said that was a good thing. Now, maybe he could just…

He resisted the urge to cheer as he cupped his free hand over the hamster’s fluffy back. She twitched a little, but he managed to maintain enough control to gently place her into one of the plastic balls. He placed it on the ground next to his laptop. 

One down. Hopefully her brothers had taken notes.

“Look, there’s your dad,” Yuuri whispered, turning up the volume of the stream just slightly. The announcers were introducing the final wave of skaters. Phichit greeted the crowed with a single lutz in the center of the ice, still in his track suit. He had plenty of time left to change before his skate. 

“What do you think Makka would be like if she were that small?” Victor asked, cupping his poodle’s face in his hands so they were nose to nose. “You could sit on my shoulder during walks. I could maybe sneak you into competitions.”

“I remember being so blown away when we first got Vicchan. He was so tiny, I was afraid to touch him at first because what if I broke him?” Yuuri smiled, making his way back over to the cage. He could still picture his tiny little companion the day that he brought him home. So perfect and fluffy. And rather sleepy, too. That trait hadn’t lasted long at all.

“I refused to pick him up for a solid week until one night he woke me up scratching at my bed because he wanted to get up there with me but couldn’t reach. Mari said he still sleeps there even though I’ve been gone.” 

His heart twinged as he ran the tip of his finger against one of the remaining balls of fluff. Vicchan had turned ten last weekend. His parents let him watch on Skype as the poodle ‘unwrapped’ a bag of treats and new sweater for the fall. He really needed to get home sometime soon. With a promise to talk to his family, Yuuri pushed the image of his dog from his mind.

To his relief, both the bronze and silver hamsters followed the example set by their sister. Soon, he was coaxing three exercise balls over the carpeted threshold of the bedroom and into the smooth wood of the kitchen floor. He followed behind with his laptop and phone, listening as Victor recounted a few familiar stories of his first few days living with Makkachin. 

He rounded them up once it was Phichit’s turn, making sure everyone had a good view. A quick glance at his phone told him that Victor had also managed to find a stream of the competition - he had his analytic expression in place, fingers idly tapping at his face as Phichit took his place center stage. Though it wasn’t quite as intense as the one he wore when reviewing Yuuri’s tapes, he noted.

“Come on, Phichit,” he whispered under his breath. 

The camera zoomed in on his rink mate’s face just as his eyes opened. Fierce and strong. Yuuri knew then that he was going to be more than fine.

They watched together in silence, aside from the occasional rustle of paws against plastic. Phichit looked incredible as he moved through his long program. There had been a few baubles on a few landings in the second half and a triple jump that popped into a single, but he pulled himself out of them gracefully.

Yuuri unmuted the commentary in time to hear the cheers from the crowd mixing with the hum of approval coming from the headphone connecting him to Victor. 

“You know, I don’t think it will be too long before you’re skating against each other.”

“Shh,” Yuuri hushed him. “I want to hear what they say.” 

Victor chuckled lightly as Yuuri turned up the volume on the commentators. It was something he never dared to do for his own performances, but he liked to hear opinions on his fellow skaters. 

_‘And here was that triple axel - very clean!’_

_‘Wouldn’t expect anything less from one of Celestino Cialdini’s skaters. Didn’t quite get the height that Katsuki does, but wow look at that flow into the step sequence!’_

_‘Coach Cialdini did say that this young skater has been working extra hard on those finer elements of his programs for this season, and you can’t help but wonder if he was the only one giving tips.’_

“Yuuri! They’re talking about you!” Victor chirped.

“I don’t think…” Yuuri mumbled through a fierce blush. 

_‘Absolutely, Jason, but you also have to agree that there is a certain flair there that is completely his own.’_

_‘It’s time to catch them over at the kiss and cry where we are still waiting on the final scores. Will it be enough to secure a medal?’_

Yuuri’s knee was bobbing up and down as the wait grew longer. He wished he was there with Phichit, knowing exactly how much longer each of those seconds must be feeling for him.

“They must be reviewing that last jump for rotations,” Victor guessed. “I think he got them though, it should be fine.”

The numbers flashed across the screen moments later, sending Yuuri’s hands scrambling for his phone. 

**[Yuuri, 13:56]:** PHICHIT THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT

**[Phichit, 14:12]:** Thanks!  
**[Phichit, 14:12]:** But I’m so tired?  
**[Phichit, 14:12]:** And I have to go to a gala after this?  
**[Phichit, 14:12]:** Are my fur-babies behaving themselves?

**[Yuuri, 14:15]:** _[picture of three hamsters sitting on Yuuri’s knees]_ Little angels - they watched you the whole time

**[Phichit, 14:20]:** Tell them I miss them and I’ll see them soon….I hope.

**[Yuuri, 14:22]:** Haha I will — they miss you too. But really, you were so good and I’m so proud! Dinner when you get back?

**[Phichit, 14:25]:** You know it ;-)

 

He ended the call with Victor after confirming the details of their own schedule Skate America. Victor had managed to find a reasonable enough flight with Aerofloat that would get in a day and a half earlier than he would usually arrive for an event, and Yuuri had managed to secure an early morning practice so that they could finally work out the rest of his exhibition skate. 

Should he need it, of course. 

Long after his head hit the pillow and his eyes had closed, Yuuri continued to feel the constant pulsing thrill unique to the start of a new season. He was so ready for next month.

 

**phichit+chu** Podium selfie! Look who I ran into @Leo-dliglesia @JJLeroy!15 #NebelhornTrophy #sendtheseboystotheolympics

_+guanghongji+, v-nikiforov, cristophe-ge and 200 others liked this_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with me and continuing to read (and hopefully enjoy) this fic! During my absence and writing block with this chapter, I managed to do some more organizing and writing of other later scenes for this fic --honestly considering investing in Scrivener software to help me with my crazy mess of notes and inspiration docs... 
> 
> And, I guess because my original Chapter 17 actually needed to be Chapter 18...that means the wait shouldn't be too long this time. I have one scene left to write and then some edits. 
> 
> FYI - if I am ever gone for a while, I've been trying to come back to the last posted chapter and add little update notes to the ending note. You can also always feel free to check in on Tumblr (ourlazykittycollection.tumblr.com) -- occasionally I write things, or can be persuaded to do so ;)


	18. Chapter 18

**_October 2013 - week of Skate America_ **

Yuuri soothed his fingers through the soft silver nest of bedhead once more as Victor’s legs kicked. The comforter was barely covering them at this point, but it just gave Yuuri more of an excuse to cuddle further into their shared heat. Victor fell still again after a moment, his breath a long and hot breeze across Yuuri’s skin. 

He had grown intimately familiar with Victor’s struggle in getting used to sleeping in a new place. Even after nearly a decade of spending at least one week out of each month away from home, it still took him at least a night or two for his subconscious to adjust to all of the unfamiliar surroundings. Yuuri had hoped that maybe this time would be different, that his arms and well used sheets would offer the comfort of home that Victor was used to, but he supposed he could understand. He could handle a night of thrashing about in exchange for the inevitable nights of bliss that would follow.

Yuuri had initially woken when the comforter reached their hips, and he remained happily awake despite having only tumbled into bed a few hours ago. No thanks to Aeroflot, he bemoaned. The airline had delayed Victor’s connection out of Paris five times - five. 

He had been a walking shell when Yuuri pulled the car up to the terminal. His head hit the passenger seat window more times than he’d fallen learning the quad flip, startling both of them each time. Even his nightly facial ritual had been abandoned in favor of sleep.

_‘Close your eyes - take the sleep you can,’_ the rational side of his brain begged. He could already feel the weighty bags under his eyes and a crick in his neck from the strange position they had fallen into. Later on in the day, he would probably regret his choice to stay awake. And yet —

A tiny gurgle passed through Victor’s parted lips as he burrowed face more deeply into Yuuri’s skin.

—maybe he wouldn’t, he thought, biting his bottom lip to keep his body from laughing. 

Victor’s sleepy murmurs and fidgets interrupted the long sterile silences of his apartment in the morning that he had mostly (kind of) grown used to. The warmth of their bodies pressed together made up for the draft that squeezed through the window panes. Two towels hung next to his shower. A bag of Victor’s preferred coffee roast sat inside of a previously unoccupied cabinet. He thought about the keychain he had picked out at the second hand shop, over a month ago now, and the two freshly cut pieces of metal strung onto it.

Victor rolled again, nuzzling his way into the crook of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri smiled and kissed the top of his head lightly. The soft light of the morning sun was warm. The birds sang and danced in time with the tree branch scratching at the siding. He may have fallen asleep in hell, but this place where he had woken up… 

This was heaven. 

Carefully, Yuuri reached for his phone on his bedside table. With a few quick taps, he shut off his scheduled alarm. Victor deserved a better start to his morning - one just as good as Yuuri’s was shaping up to be. 

Scrolling through his social media pages, he liked a few new photos Phichit had uploaded from his adventures at the Nebelhorn Trophy. They must have been taken with Phichit’s actual camera, Yuuri realized. The shots looked more thought out, edited later to capture a particular feeling. None included the artist himself in frame. 

The selfies on the other hand had been uploaded instantaneously. Yuuri scrolled to the one with the most likes, and his personal favorite of the bunch. It was tagged as the obligatory podium selfie. Phichit standing alongside two familiar faces, Jean Jaques Leroy of Canada and Leo de la Iglesia representing America, both of whom had trained under Celestino that summer at the Detroit Skating Club. Phichit was holding the bronze medal, though the look on his face could have fooled Yuuri into thinking it was the gold. 

His heart beat quickened as his thoughts turned towards his own competition coming up that week. If the rumors flooding the internet over the last few weeks could be believed, Victor had something up his sleeve for the season. Buzzfeed headlines hinted at unusual music selections and a first in the figure skating world. Leaked footage of his private practice sessions were reposted as quickly as they were taken down by Victor’s PR team, serving as the abysmally grainy source of the whispers. 

Yuuri himself, by his own stupid request, knew absolutely nothing - a fact that did little to stop the fan base from bombarding his social media accounts, no matter how many times he said it. But, on Tuesday, seventy-two hours from now, that would all change. The whole world would finally get what they wanted, and Yuuri would have front row seats to the event (hopefully - if the scheduling worked out). Both of them, he knew, could hardly wait. To show off their own programs, as well as see the other’s. 

But there was something happening much, much sooner that they were looking forward to even more, or at least Yuuri was. 

He trailed traced his finger tips along the dips in Victor’s back, gently coaxing him awake. It was a slower process than usual, though if Yuuri felt this tired, he could only imagine what Victor must be feeling like. Maybe he was being selfish in not canceling their early morning slot at the rink, but it was the only time he could secure for them to practice the exhibition program before the prying eyes of the media and public were allowed inside. Victor would definitely be more upset if he missed their session than he would be for being woken up after having barely slept.

“We have to get up, Vicchan,” Yuuri murmured apologetically, planting a kiss against the side of his head. 

Victor’s body responded immediately to the threat - rolling slightly to pin Yuuri to the mattress. The movement had more force behind it than he would have expected. “Mmmmm - one more minute. Tired…”

Yuuri sighed, considering their options as Victor continued to shift about, growing heavier on his chest. “Maybe you could just meet me after my session with Celestino. I know we said we’d run together but…”

His suggestion was met by silence. Odd, he figured it would have been an easy ‘yes’. But then again, he supposed he would also be hard pressed to pass an opportunity to watch Victor skate, even in prac—

Victor squirmed again, forcing the comforter completely off of the foot of the bed as he twined their limbs together even more tightly. Yuuri rolled his eyes, though he internally winced in sympathy. 

“Victor?”

“Mmm?” Victor startled slightly.

“I asked you if you wanted to just meet me at nine, that’s…two more hours of sleep."

“Mmmmm’kay,” Victor hummed, burrowing his face further into Yuuri’s neck. 

Yuuri laughed because what the hell? How was this the same person who dragged Yuuri out of bed at the crack of dawn for runs? It was truly amazing how much air travel could take out of a person. Eventually, Yuuri managed to extract himself from their little nest of limbs and ready himself for his last regular practice with Celestino before the main event. 

He stood brushing his teeth with a warm feeling in his heart as he watched Victor yank the corner of the sheet around his body. The second pillow was soon repurposed to take Yuuri’s place, giving him something to wrap his limbs around.

He crept quickly around the apartment, readying his tea and packing his bags before he returned to the bedroom.

“Hey,” he said, gently placing the discarded comforter back over Victor. 

“Mmmm? Yuuri?”

“I left you directions and keys on the table. Need anything else?”

“Keys?”

Yuuri laughed. “Yes, keys - you know, small gold metal things that open doors. Specifically to this apartment.” 

“You’re trusting me with keys?” Victor’s brows were furrowed over his still closed eyes. Yuuri bent to press a kiss there. 

There were more words that time - good progress. However, there was still a distinct possibility his boyfriend was asleep and would not remember any of this - a text message was probably in order. That at least would be seen, and could be reread as many times as needed for comprehension.

“Yes,” he said as he hit send. “Don’t make me regret it.” Across the room, Victor’s phone pinged.

“Mmmm, Yuuri?” Victor murmured, more urgently this time. “Set an alarm for me?”

“Anything for my sleeping beauty.”

A rumpled undershirt hit him as he left the room.

xXx

Yuuri had just landed his sixth consecutive clean quad salchow when he noticed Victor slipping through the rink doors. He wiped his brow and waved as a rush of relief washed over him. He was getting so sick of the quad and was honestly pleased to end his last regular session on a positive note with the jump that had been giving him so much renewed grief over the last month. There were moments when it was like learning it again for the first time - something must have changed physically in his body, though he was hard pressed to spot the difference. 

Maybe, if there was time later, he would ask Victor for his opinion, Yuuri thought as he pushed himself over to wrap things up with Celestino. He smiled as his blades scraped to a stop in front of the half wall. He hoped his coach wasn’t in a chatty mood - he had been looking forward to this for far too long for their time to be eaten up on small talk. 

“Victor, welcome - ciao ciao!” Celestino half-laughed as he regarded Victor and his extra large coffee with raised eyebrows. “And I thought Yuuri looked tired this morning.”

“Coach!” Yuuri sputtered, blushing. He (and the ice) had barely survived the high-heat grilling session upon his own arrival, starting with Phichit’s teasing comments concerning the state of his hair. Which apparently looked a lot less innocent than his usual morning practice bedhead. 

(Victor, on the other hand, would have debated with passion that Yuuri’s bedhead was always less than innocent, regardless of how they had spent their previous evening - _‘My Yuuri is the sexiest, thank you very much.’_ )

Thank god Phichit had left a half an hour ago - he wasn’t sure anyone would have survived otherwise. 

“Yes, we have Aeroflot to thank for that,” Victor said with a showy sigh as he set his things down. His eyes lifted to Yuuri’s hair. A smile tugged at his lips, quickly hidden by the paper coffee cup.

Celestino hummed, his gaze flickering over to Yuuri in amusement. “Not flying first class these days?”

Victor shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what class you’re flying if you spend most of the day in airport terminal seats.”

Celestino nodded in sympathy. “Okay, well I don’t want to delay your plans any further this morning. He’s plenty warmed up - all yours, kid.”

Yuuri nearly choked on his water as a hand flattened across his shoulder blades. 

“But don’t work him too hard. I need him fresh for the main event.” 

The afterthought of a frown crossed Victor’s face, fading seamlessly into a serious expression. “Of course - that’s everyone’s priority here, after all. Thank you for Yuuri’s time, Coach Cialdini,” he said with a light bow of his head. 

Slowly, the doors clicked shut. Victor let out a slow and shaky exhale before turning his full attention to Yuuri. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he offered with a soft smile. 

“Everything okay? How was your morning?” Yuuri asked, drifting slowly into the space right in front of him. 

“Mmm, fine. Lonelier the second time I woke up though,” Victor replied, taking another long sip. “Thanks for choosing the most obnoxious alarm tone possible, by the way.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Anything probably would have sounded obnoxious after last night.

Victor nodded in agreement, which turned into a close lipped yawn. He chased it with a few more sips from the paper cup, clearly trying to hide how tired he really felt. Yuuri didn’t comment, but did allow his eyes to wander across the rest of Victor’s face. Alone, the little eye wrinkles and frazzled bangs were cute, but even on his boyfriend, the other characteristics of extreme exhaustion did not make for an attractive look. His stomach twisted slightly.

Victor released his hand and reached for the small notebook with ‘Yuuri - EX skate 2013’ scrawled across the front in dark marker, with a small heart drawn in place of the dash. He clicked his black monogramed gel ink pen. Yuuri’s spine straightened to attention at the sound. It was time to work - straight to it.

Yuuri’s eyes widened at the sheer number of pages that Victor flipped through as he searched for the one he wanted. There were dates scrawled across each one in the top corner - had they really been working on this piece for that long? No, Yuuri realized, some of the dates didn’t line up with their schedule. So did Victor…had he been skating the program in his own time - trying things out? 

_How did he have time?_ Yuuri wondered in amazement. His gaze flickered up to Victor’s face. Serious and tired, yet there was also something else brewing in his expression. It was soft and maybe a little vulnerable. Not for the first time, he wished he could read Victor’s mind. 

Finally, Victor’s hand paused as he studied October 10th. He tapped the page thoughtfully before making a few cross-outs. Yuuri watched as his bottom lip drew between his teeth, pen tapping against the page as his brow furrowed deeper and deeper. 

With a final sigh, Victor struck out the entire page with a quick flick of his wrist before tossing the entire notebook into the bag behind him. Before he could say anything, Victor met his eyes with a determined smile. 

“Let’s get out there and see how it goes.”

xXx

It seemed to take a longer that usual for Victor to fully settle into their session. His critiques and instructions were slow to come and fewer than usual. Which probably should have been expected given the unexpected proceedings of the previous evening. Even after finishing the last few sips of his coffee, there was still a bit of a droop in Victor’s shoulders. A hint of dullness in the sound of his skates on the ice.

But then, a half an hour into their session, things started to look up. An abrupt shift in direction seemingly triggered by a horrendously executed triple axel of all things, which Yuuri had only managed to save by digging both of his blades into the ice and sweeping his arms around into an impromptu spin…which traveled annoyingly as he tried to locate his center of gravity. 

“Sorry,” he blushed, running his hand against the back of his neck as he dropped out of his final pose. “That was…a bit of a mess.”

“It was,” Victor admitted from behind him, squeezing his fingers around Yuuri’s biceps. “But it was also beautiful.”

Yuuri’s breath caught as he met Victor’s gaze over his shoulder. _There_ it was - the little spark of light across the dark horizon of Victor’s face. It started in the depths of his eyes, and flickered through his body like a ripple of energy. Yuuri spun to face him. He could feel the intensity of it pulsing through Victor’s stare. God, he loved it when Victor looked at him like that. He —

And then Victor opened his mouth again.

“Or well nearly anyway. It still needs a lot of work. Before that even, your free leg…”

Yuuri bit his lip as Victor started to ramble and gesture, critiques rolling off of his tongue as they got back to work. His authoritative tone was back, and Yuuri straightened his spine and danced and took critiques like it was his job - which, he supposed, it was. 

Victor worked him to the bone. Relentless and ruthless in his evaluations and opinions. Yuuri loved this side of him, too. He expected Victor to be unrelenting - he clearly was with his own programs and had subjected Yuuri to the same high bars every other time they had worked together. He was ready for it, part of him craved it even. He wanted to be pushed to his limits and beyond.

The next time he found himself in his closing pose, he broke it early, brimming with excitement.

“It was great, right?”

“Yeah, it really was,” Victor smiled, letting his arms drape around Yuuri’s waist. He pressed his nose into the side of Yuuri’s neck for a long moment before releasing a long sigh. 

“All of those nights on Skype, when things just weren’t…” he shook his head with a light laugh. “I shouldn’t have worried.”

Yuuri cocked his head to the side, his lips turning up into a confused smile. Victor continued: “Being out here on the ice _with you_ , hearing the sound of your skates. I —”

Victor’s phone started blaring from his pocket. “It’s Yakov,” he frowned as he pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID. “What does he…I should probably answer. Do you mind?”

Yuuri shook his head. In truth, his body had already been itching to start right back from the beginning the moment it had ended. With the addition of Victor’s praises…it was almost too much to handle. They still had another whole hour of extra ice time that Yuuri had booked in secret (or as secretly as you can book things at an ice skating club rink anyway), just in case. He hoped that he could convince Victor to let them stay - he needed to skate the program at least…three more times. 

“Can I keep going?” he asked.

His heart beat nervously as he tasted the request on his tongue. Recently, Celestino had taken to ending their practices on the highest note, even in cases when they still had a solid fifteen minutes left of ice time. And every time, Yuuri hated the way it felt to sit there and unlace his skates while his body thrummed with a pulsing thrill of performance high. He hoped that Victor wouldn’t take his coach’s words too seriously - he should know by now how far Yuuri’s stamina could take him.

“Yes, but watch your positioning going into your triple flip - we need to talk about that later, solnyshko,” Victor called over his shoulder as he skated towards the wall. A quick flurry of Russian followed. 

Victor stayed on the phone for a very long time. Long enough for Yuuri to finish the program four times over. He tried his best to focus on the sounds of his own skates, rather than the conversation happening in the stands. Though honestly, there wouldn’t have been much for Yuuri to overhear even if he did speak Russian. Yakov seemed to be doing most of the talking if Victor’s long silences were anything to go by. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked when Victor finally put his phone down.

Victor offered him a pained smile and a wave of his hand as he replied. “Yakov forgot I was coming early. Panicked when I didn’t meet him at the airport.” 

“Oh um, okay,” Yuuri said. “Do you need to…can we keep going or…?”

Victor nodded. “I want to get out there with you again - there’s one moment where I think —”

Victor’s phone started a second round of furious vibrations atop his notebook, rattling the pen dangerously close to the edge of the wall. 

“Yakov,” Victor muttered, tapping the red icon.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I…Yakov’s just being…” Victor shook his head. “I’m sorry, it’s fine, really. Let’s just —“

More vibrations. Somehow louder and more threatening this time. Victor swore under his breath, and Yuuri watched as he powered off the device, silencing it for good. 

Yuuri frowned. “Victor, are you sure —”

“Yuuri, all I want to do right now is watch you skate, okay?”

Yuuri paused, dragging his hand to the back of Victor’s neck where the hair tickled the pads of his fingers, freshly buzzed. Everything about Victor’s stance, his actions, his tone, was a thread woven into a large red flag. 

“Vicchan…” Yuuri hesitated, catching something pleading in Victor’s eye. _’All I want to do right now is watch you skate, okay?’_

He exhaled. Whatever was going on was between Victor and Yakov, and he needed to let it be. It wasn’t his place to fix it, but he could grant Victor his request. He’d want the same if their positions were reversed, after all. 

“What were you saying that you wanted to work on? My triple flip or something?”

Victor’s eyes gleamed, his shoulders let go of some tension, confirming that to Yuuri that he had made the right choice. “Yes, but first I want to go back to the big moment right at the end - let me show you?”

Yuuri could still feel tension radiating from Victor even after they started to skate together. The second attempt was better, especially when Yuuri nailed the new step sequence Victor had proposed. But it was still there - Yuuri could hear it in his strokes, could see it in the way his shadow moved across the ice. 

That just wouldn’t do at all.

So, instead of sliding into his final pose, Yuuri kept dancing. He bared his chest, his heart out in the open as his toes turned out into a spread eagle. A half smile tugged at his lips as his feet naturally fell into the delicate patterns they both loved from the week over the summer they both worked Yakov’s camp. The ones he always went back to when he was feeling lost. The ones he knew Victor needed right at that moment.

His knee bent easily as his spine arched, bringing (an upside down) Victor back into his line of sight for a few moments. His hands were clutched near his heart, fingers toying with the braided black leather bracelet Yuuri had given him, to replace the hair tie he habitually wore during practice - a nervous habit. Yuuri straightened up and held out his hand.

“Dance with me?” he asked, a soft smile on his face.

Victor hesitated, biting his lip between his teeth, but Yuuri only tugged at his hands, drifting across the ice until Victor was forced to move with him or fall. For a moment, Yuuri was afraid he wouldn’t follow, but then he met Yuuri in stride. Slowly, they made their way back to the center of the ice.

Their first few steps were shaky - the last time they had danced this program, it had been on solid ground in front of Victor’s living room fire. Here, now, it was just the two of them out on the ice. All that existed was the sound of their blades striking the ice.

Eventually, they both fell into time together. Yuuri tightened his grip under Victor’s arms, coaxing him to give in to their spread eagle. He felt a weight on his shoulder and looked down. Finally, Victor was smiling. Yuuri planted a quick kiss to the side of his head before releasing them out into the next sequence. 

“What would we wear?” he asked suddenly.

“Wear?”

“For this program,” Yuuri clarified.

Victor smiled, thoughtfully. “At its core, this is a dance — between lovers.”

Yuuri giggled as Victor pulled him into a dramatic waltz stance. “But there’s something secretive about it.,” he continued, “The way we move toes the line between casual and something more.”

Victor’s hand dipped lower on Yuuri’s back, pressing just at the base of his spine. “It’s ambiguous enough so that people can convince themselves that there is nothing to see, despite all of the evidence otherwise. They turn a blind eye in denial,” Victor continued, pressing Yuuri’s hand against his cheek as they continued their dance. 

“Maybe a chaperone is watching us.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Like in regency novels?” Yuuri laughed. 

Victor nodded in response. “We are princes, officially betrothed for political gains. But we fell in love while no one was looking. At a ball,” he said, pulling Yuuri close again, nose grazing his cheek. 

Yuuri shivered. “Mmm, so royal fashion then?”

“V-necked dress shirts with military style jackets. Shoulder chains and buttons adorned with our kingdom crests.”

“Why is it a secret that we’re in love?” Yuuri asked after a few moments. “If we’re promised officially and all.”

The popped up into side by side triple flips. “Maybe one of our parents is worried about how love might distract from our national duties. They’d call it off at any sign of shifting priorities.”

“I don’t buy it,” Yuuri said after a moment. “I think it’s because our love would blind the world into an eternal happiness. It would solve too many of the world’s problems.”

That made Victor lose composure, lapsing into a fit of laughs just as Yuuri went to pull him up into a lift. And, just like the first time they skated these movements, they ended up sprawled out on the ice. 

“We’re getting closer, but still not ready for our pair skate debut,” Victor teased.

Yuuri’s heart flipped in his chest as Victor grabbed his hand and pulled it into his chest. His heart was racing under Yuuri’s finger tips, just as it had been the first time. 

“This feels familiar,” he smiled, running his thumb over Victor’s. He dropped his gaze away from Victor’s face, staring intently at the way their fingers played together. “I think that was when I first started to fall for you.”

Victor smiled at Yuuri’s confession, cheeks blushing lightly. “There was a moment, right after you finished cutting my hair, when I thought you were going to kiss me,” he murmured, using his free hand to tuck Yuuri’s loose hairs behind his ear. 

Yuuri’s gaze flickered to Victor’s lips. “What would you have done if I had?”

“I don’t know…I think it might have been too early for me, if you had.”

“Yeah, you were kind of dealing with some…stuff.”

Victor’s chest rumbled below him. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Yuuri hesitated for a moment. He knew he had to ask one more time. “Victor, are you sure everything’s okay?”

Victor’s eyes shifted as they lay in silence for a few moments. It hit Yuuri then that the answer to his question was ‘no,’ everything was not okay. 

“I…maybe there is something,” Victor finally admitted, “but, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Yuuri squeezed his hand. “Okay, but if you ever do…I mean, you don’t have to…but you know you can tell me anything right? Like that summer by the lake. I won’t…I won't always know what to do but…” 

Yuuri was cut off by a brief press of their lips. “I know, my Yuuri. Thank you, I —”

This time, it was Yuuri’s phone that started blaring between them. 

“It’s a flash flood warning,” Yuuri said as they finally pulled themselves to their feet. “There’s a storm coming —I’d completely forgotten.”

“I suppose it’s time for us to wrap it up anyway,” Victor sighed. “Hopefully we can beat that storm.”

Yuuri’s heart lifted in his chest as Victor looked at him with a small shake of his head and goofy smile. Maybe he was also remembering how they had similarly been interrupted by the zamboni operator in St. Petersburg. “Yeah, hopefully.”

 

xXx

They managed to make it most of the way home at a light jog before the rain really started coming down, forcing them to take refuge at an old bus stop.

“We could just make a run for it,” Victor said, voice barely audible over the rain drops beating down on the shelter’s tin roof. 

“Are you kidding me - we’ll get absolutely drenched!” Yuuri protested. 

“We’re halfway to soaked anyway,” Victor said, already tightening the straps of his backpack and checking his shoe laces. His eyes were glinting in the same way Vicchan’s did when he was about to do something he knew would likely need to make up for with several (hundred) puppy kisses later in the evening.

With barely a tail wag’s warning, he grabbed Yuuri’s wrist and tugged.

Yuuri yelped, his feet stumbling gracelessly through those first few forced steps. Fat raindrops slapped relentlessly at the exposed skin of his arms and face, leaving him absolutely soaked in a matter of seconds. He ground his heels into the sidewalk and felt their hands slip apart.

“Victor!”

Victor spun around to jog backwards as he ran his hand through his now soaked bangs, looking like something straight out of a magazine. There was an unreasonably happy (sexy) smile on his face that Yuuri could barely make out across the few yards that separated them now. 

“Come on!” Victor shouted. 

With gritted teeth, Yuuri removed his now useless glasses and held them gingerly in one fist as he chased his boyfriend down the street. Insane. This was absolutely insane, he thought as his feet took him further and further. The water crawled up his pant legs higher and higher with each puddle he failed to avoid; they felt so heavy at his hips. His shirt was sticking to him like a second skin everywhere except for his back, covered by his skating bag. (He _really_ hoped it was waterproof.)

Victor looked back at him to flash an impish grin before picking up his pace with a yell. Amidst the sharp slapping of the soles of his shoes against the pavement, Yuuri heard the sound of his own laughter breaking over the distant rolls of thunder as he ran.

Victor and his long legs beat him by several seconds. Yuuri crowded against him on the stoop, trying to fit as much of himself as he could under the stubby awning. “Couldn’t have bothered to use those keys I left you this morning?”

“In a minute,” Victor chuckled, reaching out to brush the bangs out of his eyes. “The rain looks good on you, solnyshko,” he smiled, ghosting a thumb under Yuuri’s lip. “Bet it tastes good, too.”

They kissed - their first proper one since Victor had arrived. He could taste the deep bitter notes of coffee on Victor’s tongue, the vanilla lip balm he always slathered on after a long flight. The rain was flavorless, but it was colder than Victor’s lips and the contrasting sensation was tantalizing. Yuuri pressed in deeper, eliciting a light gasp from Victor. He shivered as cold finger tips slid under his shirt, kneading along his lower spine. He could absolutely see the allure of kissing in the rain.

His clothing though…that was starting to itch even further as rain mixed with sweat, becoming uncomfortably restricting.

“We should really go inside,” Yuuri breathed when they finally parted, his thumbs tracing little circles against Victor’s hip bones. “Celestino and Yakov will kill us if we get sick this week.” 

“Worth it,” Victor sighed, chasing Yuuri’s lips for more. It was one slow, deep kiss after another, continuous through the heat of their slow and lazy breaths. Entirely inappropriate for a shared front porch. 

“We should really…I want to get out of these clothes.”

“Mmm,” Victor hummed, “I can help with th—“

Both of their heads snapped up to the sky as a roll of thunder boomed, much closer than it had been even just a few minutes before. 

“So these keys…” Victor started.

“Mine are buried in my bag - what about the ones I gave you this morning? Please don’t tell me you lost them already?”

“I put them back in your bag at the rink.”

Yuuri turned around with a sigh so that Victor could fish them out of whatever pocket he had put them in. “Why would you… I gave them - they’re _yours._ ”

Victor’s eyes were wide when Yuuri turned back to face him. “What?”

“I, um, I had them made for you, just in case our schedules didn’t line up, so when you need to, you can just…”

“Come home?” Victor finished, his hand closing around the pair of golden keys. He kissed the back of his closed fist, smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, whenever you want.”

“Mmmm, whenever I want, solnyshko?” Victor laughed teasingly.

Yuuri’s heart fluttered. “Yes. Anytime.” Lightning flashed to their right. “Now. Um, now would be good.”

xXx

Victor’s hands were on him the moment they stepped into the living room. Warm as they pressed up his sides, circling to drag along the skin of his low back. But his lips were hotter as they kissed down his neck, leaving Yuuri helpless but to wrap his own fingers more tightly into his silver locks, pressing them closer and closer. Victor’s hair tangled more easily now that the conditioner had been stripped away by the rain, and Yuuri loved the way it clung to his fingers now, how it held his fingers in place against the heat of Victor’s scalp. And god, did it smell amazing - the perfect mix of spice and warm earth. Yuuri wanted to bury himself in it. He wished for eternal rain.

“Oh!” he gasped as the pressure increased just a fraction against the skin of his collarbone. 

“Tastes good,” Victor murmured, tracing along to the other side. “Can I…here?” he asked, biting softly.

“Yes,” Yuuri sighed immediately. His costume would cover it (probably) - he could wear it with him as he skated. That thought sent a new spark through him, pushing his legs forward as Victor’s tongue laved his skin. The same spot over and over until they reached the bed. 

“Off,” he demanded, pulling his fingers at the waistline of Victor’s sweats.

Their eyes met at the sound of clinking keys hitting the ground, muffled slightly by the material of Victor’s pants. A new heat flared in Victor’s eyes as he pulled Yuuri’s lips back to his. Yuuri could feel it as their lips clashed, flaring hot and heavy through his veins. The expression Victor wore on his face the moment he’d pieced it together…god, Yuuri would never forget that face. 

That moment had been -

_“Victor,”_ he gasped as fingers pressed tight into his hips, pulling their rain-chilled chests flush together. 

\- even more intimate than this.

He dropped to his knees between Victor’s legs, pushing firmly at his hips until he was half sitting, half laying back on the rumpled quilt. (The one Victor could now curl up with whenever he desired.) Yuuri moved seamlessly, pressing his lips now into the soft skin of Victor’s left knee, working his way up slowly - too slowly, if the pitch of Victor’s voice was anything to measure by. 

He faltered for a moment when he reached Victor’s hip. The skin there had been kissed recently, bitten over and over again by the ice. He looked up to Victor’s face as he traced the swirling of yellow, green, and blue hues with the pad of his index finger.

Victor blushed, embarrassed, but Yuuri held his gaze as he started to plant little kisses at the darkest parts. He kept them soft and tender as he reversed his path - kisses meant for healing all of the little scars that came with growing. 

_’What have you been working on, Victor? What could possibly leave your body looking like this?’_

Yuuri paused for a few breaths as he reached the crease of Victor’s thigh. He kept his nose close, appreciating the deeper scent there. Victor’s soap, the rain, the sweat of their practice, and something more all mixing into the most intoxicating musk. 

“Yuuri,” Victor gasped softly, breathily, when Yuuri resumed the trail of kisses up the hard length of his cock.

Yuuri flicked his eyes up to see the most beautiful flush of pink gracing Victor’s cheeks and a deep red of his parted lips. He allowed his free hand to grip his own cock lightly, teasing himself with a few long strokes. A shiver burst up his spine, forcing the residual air from his lungs in a hot puff against Victor’s skin. He wasn’t going to last either.

_“Yuuri…”_

“Shhh, let me love you.”

He had meant to start slow, but after a minute or so found it impossible to ignore the not-so-gentle coaxing of Victor’s fingers threaded through his hair. Soon, Victor’s thighs were shaking, his feet tensing into the carpet fibers. 

“I’m really close,” Victor breathed. “I…Yuuri - I want you _so_ much. I need…”

Yuuri moaned against him, a pulse of pleasure wracking through his own body straight to his core at the tone of pure desire in Victor’s voice. He felt one of Victor’s hands slip down to caress h is cheek. Their eyes locked - honey brown and piercing blue ice. It didn’t take long after that - for either of them.

His gaze eventually focused on Victor’s feet, spattered with the pale bloom of old bruises and blister scars. He traced his finger tips over these too, apologizing when Victor grunted and twitched next to him. They were all bruised and battered at some level or another, but again, Yuuri had never seen Victor look quite like this. 

He lifted one foot into his hands and worked his fingers in careful movements until he felt the tension release, pulling a contented sigh from Victor’s lips. He paid the same careful attention to the second and placed a long kiss to the arch as he placed it back to the ground.

“Yuuri,” Victor sighed, hand fumbling for his head. “…tired. And hungry.”

Yuuri smiled, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against his knee. “Let’s shower and eat. Then we should put our feet up for the day.”

Victor mumbled in approval. “Oh, I almost forgot. There’s one more thing…but we should shower first. Definitely shower.”

xXx

The costume Victor had dug up for the exhibition skate was even more enchanting in person, he realized as he traced his fingers over the glittering onyx sequins delicately hand stitched into a criss crossing pattern down the entire left sleeve. The main bodice piece began at the opposite shoulder, white near the top with a beautiful gradation down through the lightest of pinks, to fuchsia, to red, to deep burgundy-black where it met with the velvety material of the leggings just beyond hip level. The folding and gathering of the mesh layers gave the illusion of a bird’s wing, its plume further emphasized by brilliant crystals scattered throughout.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, letting the airy material of the other sleeve slip between his fingers.

“Mmm,” Victor hummed, “I was always a bit disappointed I never got to wear it.”

Yuuri could see why - it was absolutely gorgeous. A true piece of art. “You said it was supposed to be for the free program of your senior debut, right?”

He saw Victor nod in the mirror across from them. “I think my mother nearly cried when I decided to have another one made - both because of the expense and because she always like the look of the more delicate costumes on me. But, my sixteen-year-old self had other opinions of course,” he laughed. 

“It would have looked amazing on you,” Yuuri blushed.

“Let’s put it on,” Victor urged as he pressed a kiss against the side of Yuuri’s forehead.

Yuuri took his time to carefully navigate his limbs through the material and breathed a sigh of relief it stretched to easily accommodate his thighs and hips. Despite it’s delicate appearance, he could tell that the stitching was meticulously done to withstand the demands of their profession. It was more of a second skin on him than it would have been on Victor at the time of its creation, more mature. 

“The legs are still a bit long,” he commented, turning to Victor for help with the zipper. 

“Mmm, I hadn’t gotten that far yet,” Victor winked. 

Yuuri swatted his shoulder teasingly. “At least I know I’ll have your full attention when I skate.”

“You always do.”

A few moments of silence passed as Victor worked up the zipper, careful not to catch it on any of the mesh along the way.

“Wow,” Victor said, eyes moving over Yuuri’s reflection across from them. “This looks so much better on you than it ever did on me.”

Yuuri turned slowly in the mirror, assessing every angle of himself. He stretched his arms over head, loving the perfect tug of material against his chest. The sleeves stayed extended, thanks to the little loops of elastic around his middle fingers. He let Victor grab on of his arms and move it this way and that, testing it through his full range of motion.

“It’s perfect - I can’t wait to see you skate in it. I want to see the whole picture,” Victor smiled. 

“Me too,” Yuuri sighed. “I…I promise you’ll get to see it. I promise.”

“I’ll even fly out to nationals or four continents if I have to,” Victor smiled. “But I don’t think I will.”

“What makes you say that?” Yuuri laughed as Victor unzipped the back.

Victor grinned from behind him, nudging the material off of his shoulders. “I happened to find some footage from a certain press conference from a few weeks ago.”

“Th-that was in Japanese!” Yuuri blushed, mouth gaping over words. 

“Fan translators,” Victor shrugged. 

He really, really hated it when he allowed himself to get worked up at those stupid events. But he had just nailed his free program for the first time since he’d started doing full runs, and someone had asked the magic question, apparently. 

“What did…what did they say I said?” 

“Oh not too much, it seemed like they focused on the most important parts. So, just the part where you promised to completely smash the national record at the Olympics, break the 80 point mark on your short program, make it on the podium at one of the GP qualifying events, and start the season with a personal career best at Skate America.”

Yuuri gulped. Had he really said all of that? Or had the fan taken some liberties - it wouldn’t have been the first time in any case. “Well…I guess we’ll see this week.” 

“Yes, we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments, kudos and follows! It's always encouraging to see that everyone is still enjoying this fic with me. I'm determined to get back on a regular update schedule - for me, momentum while writing is everything so I hope I can keep going strong. Thanks again!!
> 
> Aug 8th: really hoping to get the next chapter out in the next week or so :) thanks for the encouragement <3  
> Aug21- okay this time a swear any day now! One small screen transition to smooth out and then final edits!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Trying something new this time around by embedding links to music in the chapter text. The songs will also be listed in the end notes in case you don't want to bother while reading - CAUTION: at least in my browser configuration, clicking the link will open it in the same tab (e.g., replacing the fic so you have to hit the back arrow), so be aware of that so you can choose to open in a new tab ;)

_**October 17 - 20, 2013: Skate America, Detroit, Michigan** _

 

It was earlier than Yuuri would usually camp out in the competitor’s access hallway, but he felt plenty stretched and ready for the event. Catching glimpses of a few performances would not shake his nerves. Not today anyway. Not when he was seeded to skate after Victor in the short programs. He paused in front of the bulletin board as he refolded his track jacket over his arm, a smile tugging at his lips. 

He traced his finger tips over the exposed cork. It looked naked, unnatural without it’s plethora of memos for events and advertisements looking to sell gently used gear or costumes. Entering the ice for the public practice had been like entering an alternate dimension. All of the familiar ads had been replaced with those of event sponsors - Citizen, Hellofone, Bridgestone, Calvin Klein, Chanel. There were cameras lining the space usually occupied by the assisting coaching staff, and the judge’s table sat exactly where he and Phichit usually did their box jumps during warm-ups. It was strange, but perhaps part of the reason he had fallen into such a state of ease for the short programs. The other part…

He could see the signature red and white track jacket illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the hallway, though it took many more steps for the text on the back to come into focus without his glasses. Victor was alone, though Yuuri could see Yakov lingering at the sidelines closer to the rink, exchanging a few words with his former pupil who was set to take the ice after Chris.

He had been hoping to find Victor here, alone. After searching through each and every practice studio and warm-up area that was open to them and coming up empty, there was only one place he could possibly be. 

He stopped in place by Victor’s side and nudged him lightly with an elbow. “Hey.”

Victor’s face broke into a stunned smile as he turned towards Yuuri. “You’re early,” he stated, eyes flicking over Yuuri. “And you look stunning. Wow.”

Yuuri blushed as Victor motioned for him to do a small spin. It was rather simplistic, in his own opinion. His pants were standard black that hooked under his skates. His top composed of a long sleeved nude fabric overlaid with intricate black lace, cuffed at the wrists. No extras, no detailed stitching of sequins or crystals. But it suited him. 

Yuuri flicked the zipper of Victor’s track suit. “Can I see?” 

Victor nodded, lifting his hands to the zipper of his track suit. Yuuri licked his lips as Victor slowly lowered the zipper, careful not to snag what lay beneath. His eyes widened, flicking back up to Victor’s face. They had both been so careful during the pre-season not to let any footage or images of their respective costumes get out to the media. 

The first thing he saw as the zipper parted was a swooping neckline, intricately embroidered with red, yellow and orange threads, twisted around beads and sequins in a very traditional design. Victor’s hand stopped as his gaze flickered up to meet Yuuri’s, gauging his reaction. 

Yuuri’s breath caught in his chest as he reached out, placing his hand over Victor’s on the zipper. He tugged lightly as Victor breathed out a laugh. 

“Do you like it, solnyskho?”

Could it really be…? More of a billowy ivory shirt was revealed, disappearing into high waisted slacks. Yuuri had seen this costume before, he was sure of it now as he traced his fingers over the fabric.

“Victor… is this…?”

Victor nodded as he took control, peeling away the rest of the jacket. “You remember it?”

Yuuri nodded - how could he not, he wanted to ask. It was one of the first costumes he had ever seen Victor skate in. The second day of performances during the White Night festival, when Victor danced to the award winning free skate of his novice program. He smiled fondly as he raised his hand up to sweep his fingers through Victor’s bangs, watching as they slipped through the gaps. The only thing missing was the intricate fishtail braid that Victor had dragged Yuuri out of bed at an ungodly hour to create. 

_’Nothing too fancy - I’m not the prince in this story, after all,’_ a cheerful voice toned in his memory. It had taken five attempts for Yuuri to produce something Victor was satisfied with as they sat in the middle of his room, cross-legged in front of the standing mirror with Makkachin sleeping soundly at the foot of Yuuri’s borrowed foam mattress. 

He pressed a soft kiss to Victor’s carefully pinked lips, uncaring if he walked out into the rink with some of the pigment on his own. “Of course I do.”

Victor beamed back at him. “It’s not too much?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I love it. Does this mean your mus—”

Victor’s face cracked into a wider grin as the crowd came alive in a flurry of cheers, stunning Yuuri into silence. He had nearly forgotten where they were, and what was about to happen. He blushed lightly. 

“Mmm, looks like that’s my cue,” Victor said. 

Sure enough, Yakov’s face appeared over Victor’s shoulder, muttering a few gruff words. Victor responded shortly, and gave Yuuri’s hands one last squeeze. “I’ll stick around and watch yours, too,” he promised. 

“Vitya —”

Russian spilled from Victor’s lips as he started to walk towards the ice, leaving Yuuri alone with his thoughts…and Victor’s track jacket. He slipped it on over his shoulders in favor of his own, breathing in deeply for a long moment. The scent of Victor’s cologne was fresh along the collar, layered over the deeper notes of ice, sweat, and skin. The material was different from his own. Thicker, heavier. The inside material was pilling in its age. 

Yuuri pushed up the sleeves as he walked out to the stands, earning him an eyebrow raise from his coach as he scooted over to make room on the front row bench. “Are you ready, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nodded as he stole a look at the score board. A new banner appeared at the top as Chris’s scores were announced - a 79.75. 

“Mmm, lower than I would have expected, even with the fall and popped axel,” Celestino said, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re holding back on the performance scores today.”

Yuuri let out a shaky exhale. His coach was right - those were lower scores than he was used to seeing for Chris. “He missed a jump?”

“Mhmm, the quad toe at the end. Got too close to the wall,” Celestino explained as Victor started to settle in at the center of the ice. “I stand by what I said earlier this week. More actually, I believe it more now. You can do something here, Yuuri.”

“I…” 

Yuuri stopped short as the crowd around them quieted to a low purr. Victor had stilled. His feet in a perfect V with one hand tucked behind his back. The other extended out - an invitation. It was the exact same opening position from all of those years ago. 

Yuuri leaned forward, wishing he hadn’t left his glasses back in his bag. His knee bobbed like an excited child as he waited for the program to start. Minako was watching back at his parent’s onsen. Would she remember? Or had she been too busy chatting with Victor’s mother in the Saint Petersburg small sports arena?

The [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCoLUMURunQ) started with big sweeping beats that carried Victor across the ice. With the first big beat, his arms snapped into a proper waltz stance. Yuuri smiled at the transition, just as he had as a child - surprised and delighted that Victor was literally dancing on the ice. 

Yuuri found himself just as captivated as the first time he watched Victor skate. Victor had grown into this program since the last time Yuuri had seen it. Not just in skill, and physicality, but emotionally. The story was different. Before he had been little boy struggling to learn the etiquette of the world behind the palace walls. Now, he was calling for a partner.

Yuuri wanted to be the one to fill the space between those arms and allow himself to get lost in the night of romance the performance was offering. It was inviting enough to sweep any prince off his feet.

There was a beautiful fluidity to Victor’s movements that so many skaters struggled with in the face of increasingly technical programs. Yet, there was still barely room to breathe. One element came right after the other, connected with the tasteful choreography that Victor was so well known for. It would leave any skater exhausted, which perhaps was why the final jump in the program - a triple lutz - ended up being over-rotated, forcing him to save it by placing his hands to the ice. But he straightened quickly, moving into a final combination spin that brought the entire crowd to their feet. 

Yuuri’s feet took him straight to the opening in the boards. He ignored the surprised call of his coach behind him as he draped both jackets over the boards next to his skate guards. He needed to get out there, needed to dig his blades into the ice. 

Victor’s energy was rippling all around him. It was in the jumbo screens as they played his reaction to his scores. It was in the echoing cheers of the crowd. It was in the ice, vibrating with the intensity of Victor’s performance. Yuuri drew it in through his skates, straight to his veins. He drew in a deep breath and felt his heart pulse, dragging it through his body.

He counted to six and exhaled, letting friction slow his approach to the center of the ice.

Yuuri stilled, gaze shifting slightly down towards the tip of his skate. Victor’s was a dance of the beginning of something wonderful. A new life, love. So it was only fitting then, that he was left to follow-up with a dance of his own. And Victor was there, watching him for the first time from a few yards away. True to his promise, Victor had avoided the sharp claws of the press. 

Yuuri could feel the electric blue of his eyes on him. In the sold out arena, they were the only ones that mattered. 

He started moving with the [first tone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kV3o2hcrAI) of the bell. This program fittingly took a while to come to life, but after the twelfth tone it was nothing but movement. Designed to highlight his step sequences, it contained some of the most demanding, quick paced movements he had ever attempted on the ice. And it was everywhere, scattered throughout his performance. The segments teased, growing longer in duration each time until they built into the first big moment in the musical score - which he would accent with his first jump passage. 

Yuuri focused his mind on the tone of his performance. Its feeling. Its core. He was no longer dancing with the air around him as he usually did in practice. That night, his movements were reaching out with purpose, syncing perfectly with his love whom he left behind on the mortal plane of existence. For this dance was one of death — _Danse Macabre._

He pushed himself, moving through his practiced movements with ease as he fed off of the energy left behind by Victor. His breathing was heavy by the end, sweat beading at the back of his collar as he broke his ending pose to thank the crowd.

In the kiss and cry, Yuuri squeezed the plush onigiri closer to his chest as he waited, avoiding listening too hard to Celestino’s excited murmurs as his performance replayed on the big screens. He’d get the detailed list in a few days time. Now, he just wanted his scores. 

Victor stood on the opposite side of the theater ropes, clutching a small bouquet of flowers to his heart as he too stared up at the screens. They were highlighting his point work now, praising the quick toe steps leading into a difficult spin. He blushed as Victor’s lips part.

Had Victor liked it? Yuuri wondered, flexing the muscles in his feet. The shine in his smile said he did. But what would the judges say? His technical score could not be helped beyond a few bonus GOE points that came with placing a few jumps in the back half, which the panel seemed to be rationing. 

The crowd went still as the announcer asked for Yuuri’s scores. He bent forward, squinting in preparation. Numbers flashed on the screen. The purple strips on the scoreboard shifted.

His heart stopped as his eyes snapped up to meet Victor’s in disbelief. 

 

xXx

Cameras flashed all around the room as Yuuri pulled out a chair at the long table situated towards the back of the conference room. He was still shaking just as hard as he had been in the kiss and cry, his brain working a million miles a minute. 

He placed the bouquet of wild daisies on the table in front of him, automatically reaching to pull the microphone closer. To his right, Victor and Chris were both settling in, draining a few sips from the glasses in front of them as they chatted with a few of the event officials. Yuuri stared at the beads of sweat as they dripped down the one meant for him, pooling in a large ring at its base. 

The room started to quiet as notebooks were pulled from bags to serve as back-ups. The heavy doors closed, signaling the eminent start of the special press conference. The official stood at the top of the room and introduced them one by one - Yuuri’s name sandwiched between Chris and Victor’s. 

Second place. 

He had finished the short program in second place. With a personal record to boot. His salchow landed - perfectly - even after his fall in the warm-up. His footwork had felt absolutely electric. 

Yuuri jumped when Victor’s fingers grazed his knee under the table. “Okay?” Victor asked with a light smile as the first reporter stood. 

Yuuri nodded, reaching for his water. He stilled his fingers on the surface of the glass, chasing the water droplets. His brain still wasn’t catching up to what was happening. A dangerous state to be in right before a Q and A session. 

Victor stole his free hand and squeezed it tightly, twining their fingers together out of sight. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Yuuri’s ear. 

“That was stunning,” he whispered, voice low. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Victor, don’t be rude. Let Yuuri catch his breath,” Chris purred, leaning over into Victor’s space from the other side. “You can steal it away again later.”

Yuuri’s brain kickstarted.

“Chris!” 

Yuuri’s cheeks flushed impossibly harder as Victor quipped back something in quick, teasing French. 

Thankfully, the questions started shortly after, leaving Chris little room for any other innuendos or otherwise. It started slow, repeated questions to each of them about their performances and feelings about the night for those that had missed their individual post-performance interviews. After the first few initial rounds were out of the way, the media reps began to take advantage of the panel setting, teasing out banter between the top three finishers.

“Skater Giacometti, you are less than five points behind Skater Katsuki. It wasn’t that long ago when you were leading Katsuki at last year’s NHK Trophy, which he came back to win. Will this be on your mind while you prepare for tomorrow’s free program?”

“Of course. I have no plans to let Yuuri slip away with my medal this time,” Chris smiled easily, sending Yuuri a challenging glance.

“Is this a budding rivalry?” the same reporter asked with a playful smirk.

Yuuri jolted. “N-no! Nothing like that,” he laughed nervously, waving his hands furiously. “I’m not — “

“In my opinion, it would be a huge mistake to not consider Yuuri as a rival,” Victor cut in. “He did earn the highest performance component score of the night, after all.”

Yuuri stared back at him, jaw slack. What?

“It’s true,” Victor shrugged, turning to look him in the eye. “I think we all have a lot to think about before tomorrow.”

A few reporters leapt to their feet, speaking all at once.

“Mr. Nikiforov, are you saying that you consider Mr. Katsuki to be a rival?”

“How does it affect your relationship?”

“Aha, no, it’s —” Yuuri’s brain froze. That wasn’t at all…had Victor just…how? How could anyone in the room stand there and ask if — 

“—Oh I love that kind of thing!” Victor said with a huge grin. “Yuuri’s performance had me on the edge of my seat. I couldn’t look away. Competing against him fills me with so much joy and excitement. I’m honored to call him my rival. It keeps things…interesting between us.”

Oh god, did Victor just wink?

“Skater Katsuki - any comment?”

“What can we expect from your free program tomorrow?”

“Is there anything you’d like to say to Skater Nikiforov and your fans, Skater Katsuki?”

Yuuri’s face reached a new spectrum of pink as he tried to gather his bearings. “I just tried my best to skate a clean program with appeal. I’m going to try to do the same tomorrow.” 

He paused, the glow of Victor’s playful smile catching his attention out of the corner of his eye. Yuuri turned his head to look Victor straight on - the rest of the world fading into the background, drowned out in the intensity of the fire flickering behind Victor’s eyes. And he realized, while the overall exchange had been fun, light, teasing, there had been a undercurrent of serious truth simmering throughout. 

So he held Victor’s gaze, cocked his head to the side as he opened his mouth. “Tomorrow, I’ll see you on the podium, Victor!”

A lone camera flashed, illuminating the silence in the room. Oh…uh oh.

“Wow!” Victor gasped.

“I feel a little left out now,” Chris whined over the buzz of laughter from the audience.

Yuuri felt the temperature of his face climb, forcing him to look away from his boyfriend’s bemused expression. Victor wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon. 

By some higher grace, the official moderator stepped in, regaining control of the situation with a more relevant question: 

“Speaking of tomorrow, Alexei’s coach just announced that he will be withdrawing from this event, as well as the rest of the Grant Prix series to recover from the knee injury he sustained today. Victor, what was your reaction to his injury tonight?”

Victor’s face went serious as the room quieted once more. Yuuri winced internally as the replay footage played on the screens spanning the room. Alexei had fallen badly on a quad flip attempt near the very end of his program. While he had been able to finish the program, he had been escorted out of the kiss and cry by the medical staff. The announcement of his withdrawal had followed shortly after. 

“Do you think he’ll be able to make a comeback?”

“Yes,” Victor replied, face unreadable as the footage played again.

“Even despite his age? He’s the oldest in these competitions, followed by yourself. Could we expect to see him back for the second half of the season?

“Us old folk can surprise you, I think you’ll find,” Victor said, managing to put a bit of a smile on his lips. “I’m not sure of the details of his injury yet, but I’ve known Alexei for a long time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about him it’s that he’s a fighter. If it’s within the realm of medically feasible - or even just outside of it - I’m sure he’ll do what he needs to do to be ready to rejoin team Russia for the Olympics.”

There was a gasping silence that followed Victor’s statement. Like a black hole had opened up in the center of the room, choking the breath out of their lungs and swallowing time itself. In slow motion, Yuuri watched as Victor’s eyes widened and flickered to the corner over Yuuri’s shoulder where Yakov was standing. 

Yuuri knew that look.

 _Help._

Everything started happening at once. Cameras flashed. Reporters who had maintained near religious silence earlier were suddenly on their feet, mouths moving a mile a minute. Yuuri’s brain fought to keep up. He felt the grip of Victor’s fingers intensify on the back of his hand.

“Skater Nikiforov - how have you been preparing yourself to face what happened in Vancouver in 2010? Have you come to terms with your huge defeat there?”

“The Olympic gold medal is the last remaining title you have left to earn as a skater. What can we expect from you next?”

“Will you retire?”

“Are you really choreographing programs for other skaters?”

“Are you exploring other career options?”

“What about the rumors that you’re in talks to start training under Celestino Cialdini here in Detroit?”

“Mr. Nikiforov — “

Victor held up a weary hand. “Please,” he said with a practiced smile. “One at a time.”

 

xXx 

“ — I’m not even a full competition into the season and they’re already asking about my plans for after the Olympics. What do they wan-- oh thanks,” Victor said, sitting up on the bed to accept the steaming mug of chamomile tea. He sipped. “I know that I — mmm, wow that’s nice. From Hasetsu?”

Yuuri nodded, taking a few sips from his own mug. He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud because he still wasn’t sure what kind of mood Victor was really in, but it was rather amusing to watch his boyfriend rant about media antics. It was a rapid onslaught while it was happening, and he was only just starting to gain feeling back in his fingers from where Victor had been squeezing them under the table. But after a car ride of loud music and a steaming shower with lavender salts, Victor’s temperament seemed improved. Or it was different, in any case. 

“I know I sound whiny — they’re the media. It’s their job to report on these things and keep it hot. And I also know that it’s my job to respond to them, to play their games, but really,” Victor paused again for another sip, wincing slightly. “I don’t go around collecting figure skating medals. I’m not going to stop when I’ve got them all — this isn’t Pokémon. This is my _job_. And I like my job. Well most of it anyway.”

Victor gasped again as he took another large sip, eyes comically wide. 

“You should let it cool,” Yuuri scolded, taking over and plucking the mug from his hands. He set it a safe distance away on the desk in front of them. 

“It just makes me so mad that they were so rude to you and Chris. That session was supposed to be about the three of us and Skate America. Our budding rivalry,” Victor said teasing his knee into Yuuri’s. 

“Ha ha,” Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“But instead all they wanted was some sort of statement about my retirement. Do they want me to leave? And where do all of these rumors come from anyway? The one about me switching coaches was...particularly amusing.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Well you do train here sometimes. I guess the question about a coach swap wasn’t too out of the blue.” 

It was clear that Victor had been caught off-guard by that question. His recovery had been graceful - a quick and sincere thanks to the rink and staff for letting him train while visiting with Yuuri. Squashing the rumor, however, did not stop Yuuri from imagining it. 

He pushed the thought away in an attempt to avoid the unsettled feeling his stomach always got when he considered the fantasy of permanently training with Victor.

“But you know what made me the most upset?” Victor asked, reaching for the mug again. 

Yuuri put a hand on his wrist, redirecting their fingers to twine together. “What?”

“That one reporter who insinuated that the rumor about me choreographing for other skaters was somehow confirmation of my retirement. Like I’m not capable of having a thriving career while giving back to others.”

Victor let out a long sigh as he laid fully back across the bed. He pressed his hands over his face. “There are other skaters that do it. Not many granted, but there are. So why is it so unbelievable that I might be one of them?” 

Yuuri prickled at the memory. The reporter had been rather relentless on the topic. He wished he’d had it in him to make another passionate declaration - like the one he had at the start of the conference. Something about how he’d show them all at the exhibition performances later that very week. 

But the talk of rivalries and the narrow point gaps between each skater after the short program had made him nervous about making any more promises after his initial embarrassment of challenging Victor in the first place. So he swallowed his competitive spark, opting for the route of surprise as they had planned all along with their partnership. 

“Anyway, I’m glad it’s over,” Victor sighed, “and I guess I’ll get to see you on the podium tomorrow, huh?” Victor teased, nudging his knee into Yuuri’s.

Yuuri groaned at the timing of the comment. “I still can’t believe I said that.”

“So, you don’t want to see me on the podium?” Victor said. 

Yuuri sighed. “I was too confident. I sounded…arrogant.”

Victor quirked his lips. “I don’t know, I thought it sounded pretty good to me.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I challenged the number one figure skater in the world - that’s you by the way,” Yuuri added, sensing another smart quip coming his way. “ - who has nearly a fifteen point lead on me after the short program. And I have three skaters right on my heels, all within five points of my score. That was _definitely_ over confident.”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of confidence,” Victor shrugged.

Yuuri sighed. “But now I feel like something is going to bite me.”

“The only thing that’s going to bite you tomorrow is yourself. And maybe me.”

Yuuri yelped at the sharp sting on his upper thigh. “Victor!”

Victor burst into laughter as he rubbed at the spot in apology. 

“I still feel like I snuck away with it. Just like…”

“Just like what?” 

“It’s just…what Chris said at the press conference, about not letting me slip away with his medal this time around,” Yuuri said, cheeks burning at how easily he let the comment get to him. 

Victor studied him carefully. “Don’t listen to Chris. He gets competitive in a weird way,” he explained. “The NHK title was yours the moment you stepped out onto the ice for the free program. Anyone with even half as good as vision as yours could see that.”

“Second, you earned every last one of those points today, just like I did. Just like everyone else did. Now and at every other competition. You scored a personal best, Yuuri.” Victor’s voice softened near the end as his lips drew up into a small smile. 

Yuuri tried to match it, but his nerves kept it from being fully genuine. 

“But you also threw away a lot of points. You were far from perfect, both of us were. I would offer to go over all of your mistakes with you now, but I usually don’t like to rake myself over those flames until after the competition is over. I wouldn’t ask it of you either. Besides, I’m not sure I could stay awake long enough to go over everything.”

Yuuri gaped. Did Victor just…surely there weren’t _that_ many mistakes?

“But,” Victor amended, perhaps noticing his transgression. “I could spend an even longer time watching everything that went right. Your step sequence was to die for - you’ll have to show me later this week. And you had this…presence on the ice. There was a reason why your presentation score was the highest of the night. I’m serious, Yuuri.”

Yuuri laughed nervously. “Yeah, I still don’t believe that’s true.”

“Don’t get used to it — I won’t be so distracted next time,” Victor promised. “Even if I hadn’t been, you still earned every last one of those points. It had nothing to do with me and what I did or didn’t do.”

 _’It did a little bit,’_ Yuuri thought to himself, remembering the energy he had felt coursing through him as he stepped out onto the ice after Victor’s performance had finished. But he knew that wasn’t what Victor meant. 

“Thanks,” Yuuri half-smiled, still not fully convinced. 

“Now, Skater Katsuki, what can we —”

A small gasp escaped Victor’s lips when Yuuri leaned down to capture them in a kiss. It was the perfect balance of sweet, sensuous, and dirty that flooded his chest with warmth. Victor pouted at him upon realizing Yuuri meant to keep it at a single kiss for the evening, though his pink cheeks were nearly enough to break Yuuri’s composure. He squeezed the flesh of Victor’s upper hip in promise, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. 

Victor sighed in concession and rolled fully onto his back, stretching out long down the bed. His gaze fell to the side, brow furrowing. Yuuri winced, knowing that Victor must be assessing his desk. It wasn’t messy, just well used. Phichit had teased him over it, commenting that it was no wonder the rest of Yuuri’s apartment looked so barren - all of his belongings were jammed into the tiny shelves. 

His books, text and otherwise lined them, broken up here and there by frames and various knick-knacks. The globe and potted plants were tokens from the theater troop which had adorned his desk back in the dorms. It had seemed wrong when he’d moved out to spread out his belongings elsewhere. Keeping them there felt familiar, cozy. 

“Yuuri? What’s that?”

“Mmmm?” Yuuri asked, turning his attention back to Victor.

“That box.”

Yuuri’s eyes flicked up to the top shelf, reading over the hastily scrawled kanji. “Oh, that’s the box I told you we would unpack together. I guess I forgot.”

“Can we do it now?”

Yuuri sat back, smiling at the spark of pleading in Victor’s eyes. Maybe this box was exactly what Victor needed. Surely, he could endure a bit of embarrassment for that, right? 

“Yeah, sure. Um…just let me get some poster tape.”

When he came back into the room, Victor had half of the posters spread out across the bed and was still sifting through the contents. 

“Wow,” he breathed. “I have some catching up to do with my own collection, it seems.”

Yuuri watched as Victor dug deeper into the box. He was silent, but Yuuri could see the light coming back to his eyes as he sorted through the pictures and clippings. The earlier ones were marred with tiny holes in each corner, representing the time in Yuuri’s life before he realized special tape existed to hang posters up on walls. There wasn’t room on his walls for all of them here, just as there hadn’t been back in his dorm room. He wondered which Victor would choose. 

Victor squeaked, pulling Yuuri from his thoughts. Yuuri raked his gaze from Victor’s freshly flushed face down to see a page of fine magazine print clutched between shaking fingers. He froze.

_Oh…Oh no._

Yuuri swallowed, mouth dry. He thought he’d thrown that particular clipping away. Months ago.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathed, voice breaking slightly into the next octave, “when did you do an ad for Calvin Klein?”

“That wasn’t supposed to…I meant to…Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“Mmm, I’m keeping it. For my collection,” Victor said, stealing a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek as he pointedly refolded the ad. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, though knew he wasn’t one to judge. “Of course you are.”

He paused as his eyes fell back to the box. Victor’s gaze followed, eyes widening at what he saw there. Yuuri’s heart skipped as he reached in, resurfacing with a small blue photo frame. He dragged the corner of his shirt over the glass, clearing away the years of grimy finger prints that had built up before presenting it to Victor.

“I was so surprised when you showed me. It was nearly an exact replica,” Yuuri said, studying the image over Victor’s shoulder. 

It wasn’t a perfect photo by ant means. Yuuri had taken it himself on the second evening of the White Night festival, just after Victor skated his award winning novice free program - the one he had recreated earlier that evening. Victor stood, arms crossed and a pouty smile on his face - he’d wanted Yuuri to be in the picture too. 

“Did you like it? I never got the chance to ask before,” Victor said standing to place the frame on the top center shelf of the desk. 

“Yes, very much.”

Victor paused, a smile tugging at his lips as he reached for one of the larger magazine centerfolds of himself with Makkachin. “You inspired it, you know.”

Yuuri watched, curious as the poster was carefully secured in place above his desk. “How?”

Victor turned, reaching for another — this time one of himself at the junior world championships. “How could you not? After all of the time we spent reimagining your programs back in May?” 

Victor paused, pressing the corners of the poster into the wall. “The entire flight back to Saint Petersburg, all I could think about was how I could do the same with one of mine.”

Victor sank back onto the mattress and started thumbing through the rest of the box’s contents. “They never asked me, you know.”

“Hm?” Yuuri asked, taking a sip of his tea.

“At the press conference. They were so eager to know about the end of my career that they didn’t even bother to ask what inspired me this season. I would have gladly talked for ages about that.”

“You can talk about it now. I could listen you talk about skating for hours, especially if it’s about yours, Yuuri offered with a smile. “You can tell me all about your free program too, if you want.”

Victor smiled. Finally, Yuuri’s heart fluttered in hope. “Do you want to see it? My free?” 

“Yes,” Yuuri said immediately. 

“Okay,” Victor smiled, reaching over to his bedside table for his iPad. 

Yuuri scooted up towards the center of the bed, arranging the pillows behind them as Victor tapped over a few icons. He watched intently as Victor scrolled through the short list of dated folders on the main screen. The ‘2013-2014’ folder was ultimately selected, but Yuuri itched to get a peak inside of the one further down labeled ‘for later.’ Before he could ask, the screen was filled with thumbnail stills, each labeled with the type of program and date.

“Is it another reimagined program? Your free, I mean,” Yuuri asked as the thumbnails flew by. 

Victor shook his head, humming in the negative. 

“The Olympics can bring up a lot of feelings in an athlete. Joy, stress, motivation, fear. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never gone or have qualified a thousand times. Maybe that’s why in ice skating, so many of us decide to bring back programs that made us comfortable, that remind us of good memories. That’s what my short program was. I wanted to do something different with this.

“I reminded myself how I wanted to feel stepping off of the ice in Vancouver, and what I felt instead. I wanted it to be the best skate of my life, but it wasn’t. It was devastating. Nothing about that program was who I wanted to be as a skater anymore. It wasn’t me.

“So when I was preparing for this year, I drew my inspiration from all of my favorite moments on the ice, and found a way to twine them all together. But I didn’t want it to stop there, I wanted to include things I aspired to be. That part of my program is still elusive, but…I think I can get there.”

“Like a work in progress?” Yuuri remarked. 

Victor’s face flickered in surprise. “Y-yes. That’s my theme actually. Work in Progress.”

He carefully balanced the device on their knees and pressed play. Yuuri leaned closer as he accepted one of the earbuds Victor offered him. 

“I hope you like it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s temple. 

 

xXx

Yuuri allowed a tear to roll down his cheek as the [delicate notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zxr7rMmvME0) of a piano started overhead. Victor remained still for the first couple of chords, eyes locked onto Yuuri’s position at the boards, a soft smile on his face. And then he started to move, slow sweeping arm gestures building into a sedate glide in Yuuri’s direction. Their eyes met as Victor pressed a hand over his heart, picking up speed as he worked his way towards the judges. 

A perfect quadruple flip.

And it hurt, more than Yuuri ever could have imagined it would, to stand there and watch. It was the heart wrench of watching something beautiful, entirely unique. It was the burn of pride. But was also the deep twist of disappointment, because when Victor was done with his program, Yuuri would inevitably be forced to watch his own name slip down the scoreboard and out of medal contention. 

He had been so close, so close to hanging onto his lead from the short programs. But somewhere along the way, his nerves had spiked and lead to one careless mistake after another. The competition had been Yuuri’s to lose, and he had lost it.

It hurt so much. 

And yet, Yuuri couldn’t look away from the story unfolding in front of him. He focused and let himself imagine that Victor was skating for him alone. There was no crowd, no competition. It was just Victor on the ice, doing what he loved. And Yuuri wanted nothing more than to see him at his best. No matter what the cost in reality.

Rivals. He and Victor were supposed to be rivals now after the media had run their quotes. That implied a push and pull. A give and take in the standings. It felt like an impossible thing, to be called Victor Nikiforov’s rival in. Not just for him, but for everyone. But Victor seemed to encourage it anyway. Not just with his words, but in his skating too. It seemed to be asking for something. A come and get me of sorts. 

And plenty in the sport had publicly declared that they intended to come. Yet, of all of those, Yuuri was the one Victor decided to name as a rival. Yuuri just had to figure out why. Maybe if he understood, he could start to live up to the title.

Victor’s performance flew by and ended with the result everyone in the arena expected. Yuuri watched the large center screen as Victor humbly accepted his winning scores with a nod of his head and a tired smile. He got like that when he wasn’t entirely pleased with a performance, something Yuuri had learned over the years. Yakov was already muttering under his breath, lips moving a mile a minute, eyebrows cinched in the middle. But Victor was too busy scanning the area in front of him. 

Yuuri’s heart gripped in his chest as he diverted his gaze in shame. It was childish to keep the distance between himself and the kiss and cry, but somehow he felt that it would be too much to be that close to Victor right then. Already he was tempted to yield to his flight response. Tears started to push at his eyes as Victor stood and walked over to join Chris and Cao who had gathered near the ISU official near the judges stands. He hoped Victor would understand his absence. 

He stood in the shadows of the stands for a while, keeping back his tears the best he could. The camera men bustled by, graciously ignoring him. It was far from the first time Yuuri had cried after a competition, but he was determined to watch the full extent of the consequences play out this time. He needed to see those medals placed.

Soft footsteps approached and Yuuri hurried to wipe the evidence of his disappointment from his face. His coach’s presence was a hesitant one next to him by the tunnel, and he realized it was probably the most public he had been with his tears. Usually they waited until he was alone. But the conflicting emotions had been too great to hold in this time.

He had been so close. So close to being out there with them. Maybe if he had listened to Celestino and left out the quad salchow, he would have picked up the fraction of a point he had needed to secure victory over Cao.

The crowd screamed around him as the official stepped forward with the final medal, saved special for Victor’s neck. The Skate America medals were glass, sleek looking draped down the chests of Chris and Cao. It would look even more so on Victor’s, popping perfectly against the deep navy purple of his costume. 

“Wishing you were up there with them?” Celestino asked. 

“A bit, yeah,” Yuuri admitted. His throat throbbed around the raw truth.

Celestino hummed knowingly. “You surprised a lot of people yesterday, Yuuri. I think they pulled out all of the stops today.”

Yuuri looked at his coach in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I forgot you don’t like to watch,” Celestino smiled. “You should’ve seen the way they were all looking at you during warm-ups.”

Yuuri jolted. What did that mean? “Me?” 

His coach nodded, unfazed by his reaction. “I saw things out on that ice that I usually don’t until at least the second Grand Prix placements. Chris never attempts more than two quads in his free program before the Grand Prix Final. Today, he tried for four.”

“Oh,” Yuuri managed.

“The only one who seemed like they were playing it safe was Nikiforov, surprisingly. And you. What had you so nervous out there today?”

Yuuri breathed, hoping the question was rhetorical. Where would he even start? His bold press conference declaration? His mindless panic at the realization that the theme of Victor’s program meant that he would always be chasing a moving target. One which he may never catch while it still skated on the same ice as he did. How he realized too late that they were not all the same work in progress. And the important part was that he was one too.

That was the thought that saved him towards the end of his program. He held onto it even now. His catalyst for acceptance and growth.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri assured him. “I’ll be ready next time.”

Celestino sighed, placing a hand to his forehead. “Yuuri, you —“

“Yuuri!”

He turned towards the ice to see Victor coming their way. He exhaled, thankful for the convenient timing. It really wasn’t the time or place to try to fully explain himself to his coach. 

Celestino backed off, grabbing his bag from the floor by his feet as Victor reached them. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday. Relax a bit until then. Think about things.”

“Sorry, did I interrupt?” Victor asked once they were alone. 

Yuuri shook his head as he stepped closer into Victor’s space to press a kiss to his gleaming cheek. “It was nothing.”

He trailed his fingers down the satin ribbon, coming to rest on the glass disc. His eyes prickled as he traced the emblem. He had been so close, so close, to having a medal of his own looped around his neck. He let out a shaky breath as his fingers curled into the fabric of Victor’s jacket. 

“I don’t have to wear it,” Victor said, reaching up to his neck. 

Yuuri shook his head. “No, I’m just a very sore loser.”

“Not the worst of traits,” Victor laughed. 

“I suppose not,” Yuuri sighed, finally looking up to Victor’s face. 

His heart thudded suddenly against his ribs. Their exhibition program. He wasn’t going to be able to skate it tomorrow. In all of his selfish disappointment he had nearly forgotten.

“Hey,” Victor murmured, slipping his fingers under Yuuri’s chin. “Next time.”

Yuuri exhaled. He wondered if Victor was thinking about the same thing he was. “Work in progress, right?”

Victor nodded. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Yuuri pulled his bag up onto his shoulders and took one last look at the ice behind him. He breathed in and shut his eyes tight, holding his lungs full against his ribcage. His short program had been a success, scoring higher than he ever imagined at a season opening competition. He could be happy with that. His free program...well, he could only go up from what happened that evening. He exhaled and felt the little spark inside of him alive and burning. 

He grabbed Victor's hand in his, offering a smile as he directed his thoughts to what the rest of the week would have in store for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all of your amazing support! As promised, here is what we saw everyone skate to in this chapter:
> 
> Victor's short program: Masquerade Waltz by Khachaturian  
> Yuuri's short program: Danse Macabre by Saint-Seans (when looking for a version I liked, I ran across Denis Ten's 2013-2014 SP skate and loved the one he used - so I'd recommend finding that one, as tribute to him).
> 
> Victor's free program: Exogenesis Symphony 3 by Muse (instrumental/no lyrics version)
> 
> UPDATE 9/10: So September is shaping up to be a(nother) ridiculous month at work (honestly it's to the point where I can't enjoy my weekends or evenings anymore), but hopefully that will be better starting in October. Because of that, CH20 will take a while -- but, it should be another very packed chapter and I'm really looking forward to being able to write more of it. Again, thank you all so much for hanging in there with me <3
> 
> 10/10: Okay slowly finding a better work-life balance and getting back to it :) Hoping for an update closer to the end of October - it’s turning out to be longer than I intended so might be split....meaning a quick second update to make up for the long gap here. Much love!


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